Who Could Guess?
by Drindalis
Summary: Jason has reluctantly returned to the Manor to heal from his recent injuries, promising to stay until he's completely healed. But with the Joker lurking in the shadows and out for blood, will there be a happy ending for our favorite lost Robin or will his luck finally run out?
1. I'm Fine

DJG: I feel like the last story was waaaaay too long, so we'll see how long this one is. ^^ This is the sequel of a sequel, so I highly suggest you read 'What It's Like' and 'How It Goes' before you read this so you aren't completely confused. Also, I decided to set this one up in chapter format instead of a gigantic oneshot, so I hope you like it better. I might go back and set up 'How It Goes' the same way if I get enough good feedback.

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><p>Jason stabbed his four-pronged weapon violently into his prey, grinning wickedly as something dark, warm, and sticky splattered onto face. Then, he twisted, tearing a piece off with more force than was probably necessary, shoving it into his mouth and inhaling as he raised the fork again…<p>

"Jesus Christ, Jason! Quit murdering your pancakes, you're making a mess! Idiot, you have syrup all over your face…" Roy grumbled, making a face at the other teenager. Jason looked up, eyes narrowed and cheeks full of Alfred's strawberry pancakes.

"_Fuhk _'oo, 'oy!" he said, before finally swallowing. "I haven't had these damn things in years, so shut up!"

Roy Harper shook his head, grinning. He had been served his own personal favorite flavor, chocolate chip pancakes. Jason had slept in much later than he normally did, but had still managed to wake up before everyone except Bruce. The smell of Alfred cooking him his favorite breakfast food ever had finally lured him out of his temporary room on the ground floor. Luckily, Bruce seemed to understand Jason's need for space and left him alone to eat. Soon after, Roy had been awoken by the sounds from the kitchen and wandered downstairs to eat.

It was the first full day since returning from the hospital. The night before, after a long shower to get the various types of food out of his hair, Roy had mooched a ride from Dick to the apartment he had just had time to rent before going to the hospital from infected arrow wounds. From there, he brought out his bow, quiver, and a few changes of clothes back to the Manor on his motorcycle, parking it just outside the boundaries of the large gates.

Jason had managed to wash the spray paint out of his hair, but the white patch was still looking awkwardly gray. It would be a few days before it finally returned to normal. However, he was not adjusting well to life on crutches, no matter how temporary it was. Jason was thoroughly annoyed that he was stuck on the ground floor, and when he realized that he would never be able to make it down the stairs to the Batcave, he gave his leg an immensely frustrated look. Then, he had tried to light his crutches on fire when the rest of the Bat family wasn't looking.

This all occurred before Bruce had even had time to take off his coat.

"Come on, Jaybird! You'll get used to-" Dick had began to say, before the small end of a crutch was practically shoved up his nose.

"Finish that sentence, and you can get used to the smell of cheap ass plastic all the time, _Dick."_

Then again, Jason was probably still embarrassed about the fall he had taken in the middle of the night. He had woken up, still loopy from his pain meds, and tried to get out of bed to find something to eat and had forgotten about the need for crutches.

The results? The entire household woken up by several loud, drawn-out screamy swear words.

Jason himself hadn't been seriously hurt, besides shattering a lamp on the nightstand and receiving a few gashes on his hands. His pride had suffered more, especially when Tim had insisted on helping him get back into bed. As soon as the family had finally left his room, he shook more painkillers than he probably needed out of the bottle and dry-swallowed them, before rolling over and going back to sleep.

"So, what's the plan for today, pancake killer?" Roy asked cheekily. Jason shot him a look, which _might_ have been frightening if he didn't have a pink stain on his cheek from a strawberry that had missed his mouth.

"The plan? There's no freaking plan, why would there be? I'm going back to bed after this. Stupid pain pills…" Jason grumbled, fishing the bottle out of his pocket. Since Alfred had a strict 'no costumes in the house' policy, Jason had been given some of Dick's old clothes. He was now wearing a black shirt and simple sweatpants, perfect for lazing around the house all day.

"Lemme see those." Roy asked, snatching the bottle before Jason could protest.

"Hmm…side effects. Lessee…ooh, you've got a fun time ahead of you, Jaybird! Extreme exhaustion, nausea, headaches, dizzy spells, dry mouth, lightheadedness, chronic nightmares, muscle spasms, vomiting, depression, extreme angsting, boredom, inability to find Waldo, ranting to your sexy best friend, the tendency to _be_ boring, herpes, super herpes, facial herpes, the desperate need to get laid, and the high possibility of contracting 'I'm A Douche' syndrome." Roy finished cheerfully. "You must have taken a lot of these pills already, Jaybird!"

Jason's eye twitched, his fist tightening around the fork in his hand. The very _sharp _fork.

Alfred's arrival to take the empty dishes possible saved Roy from a severe maiming.

Finally, Jason unsteadily stood, leaning stubbornly on the chair as he blatantly refused to acknowledge the crutches, instead hopping forward on his good leg and using various objects to hold himself up, despite how long it took for him to make it versus using crutches. Roy shook his head, standing up and grabbing the hated objects, before following him into the living room.

Jason had already made himself comfortable on the couch, downing two of the pain pills before curling up into a ball underneath a small throw blanket. A quiet knock on the door was suddenly heard, causing him to peek his head up curiously. Alfred was busy doing dishes, so Roy decided to see who it was, leaning the crutches up against the couch. He opened the door and froze.

"Kori? Shit, is that you?" Roy asked, inspecting the woman at the door. She was very beautiful, with red hair and tanned skin peeking out from underneath a wide sun hat. She appeared to be trying to hide her unusual appearance so that not too much attention was attracted to Wayne Manor.

Her green eyes widened in surprise. "…Roy? What are you doing here?"

The red-haired archer smirked. "Just chillin' out with my friend Jaybird here. Jaybird, say hi!" he called, causing the dark haired teen to grimace.

"…hmph." he grumbled quietly, before lying back down and burying himself in a blanket. Those meds worked fast…already, he was exhausted.

Roy grinned, holding the door open to allow Kori room to enter. "Geez, Jay, you _must_ be sick! I think I've gotten away with calling you 'Jaybird' like, five times today and you haven't complained once!"

A small mumble from under the blanket, and then silence.

Kori turned to Roy, confused, as they left Jason alone to sleep in peace. "Excuse me, but…who is that boy? I have never seen him at the Manor before…"

The redhead ran a hand through his hair. "Eh, Jay's new around here, I think. Apparently he had some huge fight with the B-Man and ran away? No one has explained, so that's my guess, anyway. Any way, what brings you here?"

Kori blinked. "I was merely concerned as to how Dick was doing. It has been such a long time since the Titans were all together at the same time…"

A small creak suddenly caught their attention as Tim slowly made his way down the stairs, still looking tired. He rubbed one eye sleepily as he headed for the kitchen.

"Mm…morning, Roy…Star…" he said softly, smiling as Alfred presented him with a plate of raspberry pancakes.

"Hello, Tim. How's your back?" Kori asked, remembering Tim had been hurt a few days ago.

He gave a small shrug. "I'm mostly okay now. Sleeping on a hot pad has been helping, plus I've got some meds that really help, too. Damian's a little sore from firing that RPG, he just doesn't want to admit it."

Starfire looked concerned. "And, Dick?"

Tim blinked, scooping up a large bite of his pancakes onto his fork. "He pulled a muscle in his shoulder from being blown off the roof and grabbing Ivy's plant, but he's been taking it easy and hasn't been complaining much."

If they would have been in the living room, they would have seen Jason roll over uncomfortably at the news of everyone else's injuries. It may not have directly been his fault, but he still felt incredibly guilty.

"_Shut up, Todd. It's not your fault they were idiots and got themselves hurt. In three weeks you can blow this dump and go back to the way things were before, so don't get comfortable."_

Another voice interrupted them. "Speak for yourself. Grayson has been complaining plenty." Damian Wayne proclaimed, appearing in a simple white shirt and beige shorts. He gave Starfire a scrutinizing look, before entering the dining room and sitting down as far away from its other occupant as possible. Even after everything that had happened, Damian still didn't get along with Tim, and vise versa.

"Where's Father?" he demanded. Tim gave him a look, taking another bite of pancake.

"Did you check the Cave? He's probably down there."

Damian made a face. "I'm not _stupid_, Drake. Of _course _I checked the Cave. It's empty."

Tim looked up in surprise. "…wait, what? He's _always_ down there! Where else would he be?"

Damian looked like he was about to attempt to shove his fork down Tim's throat. "That's why I asked you, _fool! _Because _I _don't know!"

Roy quickly intervened, having seen firsthand how the two youngest Robins typically interacted with each other after the 20 minute ride home from the hospital yesterday. Tim had somehow annoyed Damian, who had then shoved the third Robin's head out the window and rolled it up so far that he couldn't fit back inside, before tying Tim's hands behind his back with the sleeves of his sweatshirt…and he did it in less than a minute. Tim, being resourceful, had quickly escaped the binds and then twisted Damian's arm behind his back, which resulted in Damian accidentally kicking Jason in the face while he was struggling to get away. Bruce didn't even have to tell the younger boys to be quiet. One withering glare from the former Robin had gotten Tim to sit quietly, and Damian to at least pretend to look guilty.

"Knock it off, you two. If you wake up Dick or Jason, they'll kill you. Well, Jason will. Dick'll probably just give you a hug." Roy grumbled, pulling out a chair for Kori while he sat down another. She gave a look of surprise at his action, but sat down as well.

Damian visibly grimaced, while Tim merely went back to eating his pancakes.

Roy looked around awkwardly as the room became silent, broken only by the occasional scrape of a fork moving across a plate as Tim and Damian continued to eat.

"Er, Star? Want some pancakes? I can see if Alfred would mind making some more…" Roy asked. She looked confused.

"The only pancakes I've had did not have toppings like those. Why add fruit to pancakes? Is it more healthy?" the alien asked curiously. Roy stood.

"Nah, not really. It gives it a better flavor, but it doesn't have to be fruit. I like chocolate chips on mine." the archer explained, moving to go find the butler.

Starfire pondered this. "That is a very interesting concept. Could I perhaps have mustard on my pancakes?"

Tim choked back a laugh while Damian gave her a look. "Mustard doesn't go on pancakes. It would be disgusting." the youngest Robin stated.

Roy rolled his eyes. "If she wants mustard, then she can have mustard. It's not like _you _have to eat yours like that, Captain Boysenberry."

Tim couldn't hold it in anymore and burst out laughing, earning himself an annoyed glare from Damian.

Starfire shook her head. "No, no. I'll have something else, then. I would like to try human customs as they were meant to be, first, before altering them to my tastes. You pick."

Roy shrugged, before leaving the dining room and entering the kitchen to investigate where Alfred had gone.

Suddenly, and very silently, Dick entered the room, an apple in his hand. "Hey Star. When did you get here?" he asked, ignoring the way Damian complained to himself about acrobats sneaking up on people, and exited the room, still grumbling. Tim followed with his cell phone in his hand, probably texting Conner. He left his dish for Alfred to retrieve later.

She smiled. "Hello, Dick. It's been awhile. How are you?"

Nightwing rolled his shoulders a few times, wincing. "Eh, I'm okay. Blew out one of my shoulders, but I'll be fine in a few days." He sat in the chair on the other side of Starfire.

She looked concerned. "How did you get hurt? Actually, how did everyone here get hurt? Your shoulder is injured, Tim's back is hurt, Damian is sore, and the other boy, Jaybird, is unable to walk on his own."

Dick couldn't hold it back. He laughed, earning a small frown from the Tameranean. "I do not understand. What is so funny?" she demanded.

"Nothing, it's just…his name is Jason, not Jaybird. Roy calls him that, and he _hates _it. But yeah, you're right, the only ones who aren't hurt physically are Alfred and Bruce." he responded, sobering up.

Kori pondered this statement. "You said physically. Is your father hurt another way?"

"I don't know. He fought Clayface that night, a monster that can change his shape into whatever he wants. Seeing as all of those Arkham escapees were all trying to find Jason, that's probably the shape he took, to mess with Bruce mentally and emotionally."

"That night…Arkham escapees? When was this, exactly?" she asked. Only then did the first Robin remember that the escape was covered up by most of Gotham's authorities.

"Oh, yeah…you don't know, do you? Basically, the Joker offered everyone in Arkham a get-out-and-stay-out-of-jail-free card or one billion dollars to find Jason and the Red Hood and capture them at the same time. Meaning, all hell broke loose." By this time, Roy had managed to locate Alfred and requested Starfire get some pancakes with pineapple chunks on top, before bringing it out to her so the aging butler could finish the dishes. Her eyes lit up in surprise.

"Pineapple is very similar to a fruit on my planet know as _chuvca_…it's my favorite." she remarked, before allowing Dick to add to his explaination as she began to eat. Roy sat down as well, eager to hear the full story for the first time. They sat like that, just talking over the recent events, for about half an hour.

"Because Jason _is_ the Red Hood, you can see why it was an impossible task. So pretty much, he had all the crazies in Gotham chasing him down. So we decided to get involved. We were kinda useless though, seeing as not only did he get burned by acid, he also had his apartment bugged, almost got sniped, got kidnapped, was in a car accident and got a concussion, got stuck with a few needles of the Scarecrow's fear toxin, got thrown into the wall by Bane and got _another_ concussion, took down Bane by playing dead, and to do _that, _he had to take a traffic light to the chest, got mind-controlled by the Mad Hatter, shot himself in the head, and then jumped into a vat of acid. After that he spent a week in the hospital going through Venom withdrawal and the lingering effects of the Scarecrow's fear toxin. So…on a scale of one to sucktastic, we didn't do that good of a job protecting him." Dick finished.

Starfire frowned, putting down her fork. "Why was he being hunted, and not you, or Tim, or even Damian?"

Dick sighed. "Ever since Jason came back to life, he's been really angry with Bruce. The Joker probably wanted to use that against us. I can understand both sides of the argument, actually…Jason was horrified that Tim replaced him and also that Bruce didn't avenge his death. Bruce needed a new Robin, and he has a moral code that keeps him from killing anyone, so he couldn't kill the Joker.."

Roy choked, coughing wildly as he processed this new information. "Wh-what? Back to life? What do you mean, _back to life? _Jaybird's not dead! He's got a heartbeat, I saw the heart monitor in the hospital-"

"Roy, we have no idea either. All we know is that he was fourteen when he got killed by the Joker, he was in the ground for a few years, then woke up and had to dig himself out of his own grave. Then he wandered around with no memories or personality, just some muscle memory. Talia, Damian's mom, found him and saw him doing Robin's signature moves on some creeps who were messing with him. She took him to her country and pushed him into her father's Lazarus Pit, which gave him his…I don't know what, exactly, soul, spirit, whatever you want to call it…but he was back to normal. Relatively. He got that streak of white in his hair and he also is more violent than he was before. But since he never got a chance to…well, grow up, maybe that's just how he is." Dick stated.

Roy scowled. "Does it bother you that you can't tell?" he asked in a low voice.

Dick frowned, but said nothing.

Starfire pulled her lips back in a snarl. "I have heard of Lazarus Pits on my planet…they are very rare, and very taboo. I believe there is only one on Tameran. It is said that whoever uses a Lazarus Pit to resurrect themselves comes back with only _half_ a soul. Anyone on my planet who willingly uses one is outcast and shunned by the rest."

Roy grimaced. "Well, it sounds like Jaybird didn't really have a choice…plus, he wasn't dead when they shoved him in there, he was just screwed up in the head, right? So he's still got his whole soul, right? That makes sense…_right?"_

Dick shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. We don't know enough about Lazarus Pits to know for sure. But…I don't think Jason's crazy or anything…I think he's scared."

Roy looked incredulous. "Scared? You _are_ talking about Jaybird, right? He's not scared of anything! No way!"

A bloodcurdling shriek from the living room forced the Green Arrow's former ward to find a new argument.

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><p>DJG: Soooo...multi-chapter format…you like? You hate? Someone give me some feedback pretty please? I'm hoping people will like this better, but I can go back to the old way if you prefer.<p>

Muse: Feh. Quit being so damn wishy washy and just pick one already. Also, the song of this story is 'This Is Letting Go' by Rise Against. I swear every song by them could be about Jason. Seriously. It's epic.

DJG: Geez, no need to sound so enthusiastic.

MusE: SILENCE, FOO!


	2. In The Fire

DJG: I feel like I've got some explaining to do. Just so everyone is aware, none of the stories in this trilogy are supposed to be completely canon. I kinda broke off of canon a few stories ago. ^^ Jason's resurrection was because of Superboy Prime, not a Lazarus Pit. It's pretty much the comic book explanation, not the movie version. Also, Jason never became an honorary Teen Titan in this version, so he and Roy never met. Kori's character is a mixture of the one from the Teen Titans comics, and the TV show Starfire. She also never goes missing in this story's universe. I hope this explains a bit more. :P

Muse: Pfft. You exist to confuse these people.

DJG: *weeps* I'm SORRY! And, sadly, I still own nothing but the plot."

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><p><strong>Last Time:<strong>

_Dick shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. We don't know enough about Lazarus Pits to know for sure. But…I don't think Jason's crazy or anything…I think he's scared."_

_Roy looked incredulous. "Scared? You _are_ talking about Jaybird, right? He's not scared of anything! No way!"_

_A bloodcurdling shriek from the living room forced the Green Arrow's former ward to find a new argument._

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><p>"Jason?" Dick demanded in surprise, racing after Roy who had headed for the source of the scream almost before it had finished. Kori got up and followed them, concern evident on her face.<p>

They reached the living room, seeing Jason sitting up with his face in his hands, trembling slightly with Tim and Damian already there. The elder of the two was trying to comfort him, while Damian merely looked confused.

"Jay? Jason? It's okay, calm down…" Tim said, looking a little stunned. The second Robin snapped something, muffled beyond recognition behind his self-made barrier. Dick quickly leaned over the couch.

"Jason? Are you okay? What happened?" he asked Tim when he got no response.

The third Robin gave a small grimace. "Er…a nightmare. I think. He's not exactly being very talkative."

Roy snuck around Dick to peek at the injured teen. "Jaybird? Which one was it?"

Silence, and then…

"…it was new. Not like the others." Jason grumbled, his voice wavering slightly.

Roy grimaced. "Better or worse?" he asked while everyone else made faces of confusion.

No hesitation.

"Worse." Jason admitted.

"You want some space?" Roy asked.

"…yeah."

The original Robin nodded, taking up his position as the oldest. "Okay, everyone out." he said firmly, ignoring Tim and Damian's protests. "I'm serious, guys. Out!" he proclaimed, the big brother voice coming out despite himself. Tim and Damian reluctantly slunk back upstairs, and Roy, Kori, and Dick returned to the kitchen. A few minutes later, however, they could hear the faint sound of whispers, meaning Damian and Tim had snuck back downstairs.

Immediately, the eldest Robin rounded on Roy. "Well? What was that all about?"

Roy winced. "Er…well…he had really bad nightmares in the hospital…I didn't realize they were because of the Scarecrow's fear stuff until I heard the whole story."

Kori looked sympathetic. "How bad were the nightmares, Roy?"

"Um…most of the time he woke himself up because of how loud he was screaming. I asked him what they were about, but he was vague. They didn't make much sense to me before, but _now_…Jesus. There was the one with the clown…the one with a giant bat…and then one with the crowbar…and those were just the ones when I woke up before he did. He talks in his sleep, by the way."

Dick sighed, leaning against the wall. "I didn't even think about what that would be like…wait, what did he say?"

Roy looked uncomfortable. "Er, the basic 'stop it, don't touch me, get away' and a few 'I hate you', 'you replaced me', and even a 'she didn't love me either'. I still don't know what that last one means."

"I do." Bruce interjected, having appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Kori and Roy visibly jumped, while Dick merely frowned, used to this after living with it for years.

"Bruce," Dick began, "Where were y-"

"-Later," he promised, turning to Roy. "I know what he meant. His mother died in the explosion, but before that, she sold him out to the Joker. I did happen to find a damaged security camera in the rubble, but the lens had been melted by the explosion so there was no visual after the explosion. The audio worked fine. I heard her tell Jason that the Joker had left, and then after a few seconds, he goes '_What? _But you said-' and then she says 'I lied.'"

Kori's eyes narrowed. "You're saying…a _mother_ sold her own child out to that…that madman?" The silence that followed was broken only by a small squeak from the couch as Jason shifted positions a bit.

Bruce's face seemed old, tired. "Yes. I never expected she was throwing in her dice with the Joker…maybe if I had, Jason wouldn't have-"

Dick winced, making a shushing motion with his hands as they all heard a second squeak from the couch, signaling that the aforementioned teenager was getting up. To their surprise, however, they didn't hear the tap of the crutch, or even curses from Jason. Just silence.

Something wasn't right. Not even Tim and Damian were talking anymore.

Curious, Dick peeked his head out of the kitchen and froze at the sight that awaited him.

The living room was completely empty. The blankets Jason had been using were in a heap on the floor, and his crutches were missing. The front door, however, was wide open. Tim and Damian were also absent.

"Those little shits!" Roy breathed, appearing behind Dick. The former Robin gave him a look, before his eye was suddenly caught by a small bottle partially under the couch. He scooped it up, frowning as he recognized what it was.

"Jason's pills?" Bruce asked, concerned. Dick nodded, confirming it. Not taking the pills wouldn't make him more sick, but they kept the pain from his injuries away. How much pain he was in while _not _on the pills was unknown to them, but since he had been prescribed such strong pain meds, it must be pretty bad.

Kori looked confused. "Where would they have gone? And how would they have gotten so far away without a vehicle of some sorts?" she stated rationally. Roy curiously exited the Manor to see if he could find any clues outside.

Dick blinked, remembering that all four of the boys had been raised by the World's Greatest Detective. Obviously, the door hanging wide open was a false lead, probably courtesy of Tim. He _did_ like to mess with people's heads like that.

Then again, both Tim and Damian were smart enough to know Jason wasn't up to be walking around much at all, let alone running all over the town doing God-knows what.

"I'm going to follow them in my squad car, I've got work in an hour anyway. Kori, can you search by air?" Dick asked, quickly rushing up the stairs to get dressed in his police uniform.

"Of course." the alien called after him, calmly shedding her disguise and preparing to leave. "But…may I ask what exactly we will be searching for?"

"Son of a-!" they heard Roy yell furiously, the redhead retuning to the house with rage in his eyes. "Those little turds hijacked my _motorcycle! _I'll kill 'em!"

Bruce frowned. "They wouldn't all be able to fit on that thing without overbalancing… which means one of them stayed behind."

From his hiding place in the massive decorative vase near the door, Tim gulped.

Instantly, the Dark Knight rounded on him, lifting up the lid and glaring down at his third youngest son. Tim winced, crawling out and preparing himself for the severe berating he was about to receive.

"Alright, twerp, where'd they go with my baby?" Roy snarled.

Tim chuckled nervously. "Eh heh heh…what do you mean?" he asked, lying very obviously. Bruce knew Tim well enough to know that when he couldn't look you in the eye, he wasn't telling the truth. It was one of the reasons Tim was desperately wishing for his mask to obscure the dead giveaway.

"Tim. Jason accidentally left his pills here. Something could happen, and if he's driving that motorcycle with Damian on it when it does…" Bruce stated, giving him a Bat-glare.

Tim cracked.

"Fine! Jason wanted to blow off some steam after that nightmare and threatened to tell you…er…something…unless we helped him escape!"

Bruce arched an eyebrow. "What didn't you want to tell me?"

Tim frowned. "It wasn't something _I _did, it was something _Damian _did. Jason threatened to tell you, so Damian made me help Jason get away or else…er…"

Dick grinned, reappearing at the top of the stairs in his police uniform. He had heard nearly everything. "Or else he'd tell Bruce something _you _did, right? God, so you all just unleashed a massive blackmail-fest on each other? Makes me wish I had some dirt on Jay to keep him here…"

Bruce sighed, resisting the urge to face palm. "Dick, I'm going to hack into security cameras and see where they're headed…I'll let you know what I find out."

Dick nodded, gripping the bottle of pills tightly in his hand. "Alright. Keep me in the loop." he said, walking out the door and sliding into his police cruiser. He tossed the bottle into the glove box, before slowly backing out of the driveway and speeding away. Kori took to the skies, flying above the car.

Roy grumbled something about stupid kids as he carefully checked that his bow and quiver were in good shape, before following both of them on foot. Bruce sighed again, heading down to the Batcave.

"Tim, come with me. You can help find Jason and Damian." he instructed.

Tim groaned, hanging his head. "I'm gonna get killed so hard when they find out…" he grumbled. Bruce gave a small smile, shaking his head.

"You'll be fine. Just tell Damian I already knew about when he disabled the autopilot in the Batmobile so he could drive unsupervised and he'll leave you alone. Besides…what exactly is it _you _don't want me to know?"

Tim chuckled nervously. "Oh, nothing…" he said, avoiding Bruce's eyes.

* * *

><p>"WOOHOO! This thing's got some kick!"<p>

Jason grinned widely, weaving in and out of traffic while Damian reluctantly held onto him tightly. He revved up, speeding even faster, before taking a corner at a very dangerous angle. The youngest Robin felt the pavement brush against his jeans for a millisecond, before Jason tipped them back upright again.

"Todd!" Damian yelled over the engine, his eyes squeezed shut tightly as he clasped the crutches in his hands. "Slow down! You're going to kill us, fool!"

Jason merely smirked, kicking it up a gear. Damian was seriously beginning to wonder why exactly he had agreed to this, especially since he doubted they had fallen down into the double digits since they had gotten on the bike. Oh well, the Narrows typically didn't have many cops that would worry about speeding when there were shootouts daily to deal with instead.

"Relax, Demon Child! This is the most fun I've had in weeks!" Jason said cheerfully.

"I find that statement ridiculously false! You've only been injured for roughly eight days!" Damian responded, gritting his teeth.

Jason paused, seeming to consider this, before shrugging. "Meh. Feels like weeks." he chuckled.

Damian huffed impatiently. "Where exactly are we going, Todd?" he demanded.

The rogue Robin turned sharply down an alley, the motorcycle barely fitting in the small area. Damian winced, feeling nauseous from the constant changes in direction.

"We're going to my place. Gotta make sure no one stole any of my shit!"

He began to slow, before coasting to a stop outside of his small apartment. Damian stumbled- well, fell is more accurate- off the motorcycle, giving Jason the best glare he could while feeling like he was going to throw up. He thrust the crutches in the older boy's general direction, before getting up with as much dignity as he could muster.

Jason hobbled up the stairs, cursing every other step from the difficulty of maneuvering the crutches where he wanted them to go. Finally, he made it to the top, reaching in his pocket for the keys.

And then realized that he didn't have them.

"You idiot." Damian hissed murderously.

Jason shrugged. "Eh. Keys. Who needs em?" He then looked Damian over. "Okay, spider monkey, here's what we're gonna do. I keep my bathroom window unlocked in case something like this happens, so you're going to scale the drainpipe and squeeze in there and let me in. Got that?"

Damian groaned. "I think I am quite capable of understanding how to get onto a _roof, _Todd. My life only _depends _on it every single night."

Jason grinned. "If it makes you feel better, the roof is booby trapped since I'm on the top floor anyway. Keeps the creepers away. If you're as good as you think you are, you should be able to get in without tripping them."

Damian's eyes lit up at the prospect of a challenge. "Tt. This will be easy." he remarked, shimmying up the drainpipe in seconds.

He then froze as he eyed the roof.

The entire simple, flat, and brown rooftop was empty of any traps that Damian could see. Which meant this was going to be a lot harder than he thought. Not impossible, but still. This was a little much just to unlock a door, especially when Damian didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. He'd even been trained for this sort of thing, and still somehow Jason had outsmarted him.

"Having fun up there?" Jason called cheekily, unable to see him from his vantage point on the ground.

"Shut it, Todd!" Damian snapped, inspecting everything as he crept forward carefully. Just because he didn't see any traps didn't mean there weren't any. Then again, maybe Jason just wanted to mess with him…

Without warning, an unstable portion of the roof collapsed under his weight, the surprised twelve-year-old landing awkwardly in Jason's bathtub with several support beams and broken bits of plaster around him. Only after that did one of the traps disengage, a net landing on top of the pile right as the dust began to settle. Damian sat there for a second, stunned. He hadn't been hurt, but it had startled him more than he'd like to admit. There was an awkward silence, and then-

"…Demon Child? Tell me you didn't just break my house." Jason called from outside.

"Tt. 'House' is a bit of an overstatement, isn't it?" Damian responded sarcastically, awkwardly crawling out of the bathtub, still tangled in the net. He cursed under his breath, before retrieving a pocket knife to slice at it.

"Pssh, it is now, since half the roof has been mysteriously been relocated to my bathroom." Jason complained dryly.

"'Roof' and 'bathroom' are also overstatements, Todd." the youngest Robin hissed, finally freeing himself from the net. He slipped the pocket knife back into his pocket, before leaving what was once the bathroom and finding the front door. He opened it, giving Jason a withering glare as the rogue tried not to laugh at his appearance. The dust had given his hair a dull, faded look, and he had a small scratch across his cheek that was beginning to bleed steadily. Damian still managed to keep a majority of his dignity.

"Are you-?" Jason began.

"I'm _fine, _Todd. Don't mother me." Damian interrupted.

"…I was going to say hungry, but never mind. Make your own damn food, brat!"

* * *

><p>Dick sighed, slowing to a stop at the intersection and gesturing for a group of four boys to cross. He watched them run to the other side, frowning as he sat deep in thought, puzzled. The eldest was holding the hand of the third-smallest, who had a Nintendo DS in his hands. The eldest boy was carrying the youngest, a toddler who couldn't be older than three. He turned and yelled something to the fourth child, who looked to be the second oldest. The child merely laughed at him and continued walking at his own pace, stopping to bend down and pick up a scrap of tire that had caught his eye.<p>

Was it a bad thing that these children reminded him of himself and his brothers?

Without warning, a large black car came around the corner at highly illegal speeds, tipping onto two wheels as it did so. The driver, however, appeared to have lost control of the vehicle, for it was skidding across the pavement-

Right towards the boy who had run off on his own.

Dick saw this all in slow motion, even as he noticed that the other three kids were already out of the way. The eldest was yelling something, but the other boy would never make it in time. Without thinking, Dick stomped on the gas and out in front of the child, gritting his teeth as the other vehicle slammed into his police cruiser and pinned it to the streetlight. There were several screams, and the sound of scrunching metal. Dick was faintly aware of the strong smell of gasoline and antifreeze, before everything faded away.

"_I hope…that kid's okay…"_

* * *

><p>DJG: Sorry! I'm so sorry! I took forever to update and then left you guys with another cliffhanger…still, I hope people like chapter two! Also, reviews help me to improve the story, so…you know what to do. ;)<p> 


	3. I Feed

DJG: Sorry about the wait, I just took forever to get this typed. My apologies. ^^ Hope you enjoy the chapter, and don't forget to leave a review on your way out!

Muse: DJG doesn't own the characters, they all belong to DC comics. Lucky skanks…

Warning! There's a lot going on in this chapter, so be prepared to be seriously whelmed. If there's something I can explain, please don't hesitate to drop me a PM or a review and I promise I'll respond. :)

**EDIT: Since my computer was destroyed by the evils of lighting and my idiocy of not having anything backed up on my flashdrive, I lost everything and am slowly trying to replace notebooks full of chapters already written. To make it up to you guys for taking forever to update, I edited and re-uploaded this chapter since I decided to change the entire direction of the story after losing everything. -_- This chapter had soooo many plot mistakes, so thanks to everyone who pointed them out to me! I appreciate it greatly!**

**EDIT 2: Thanks to the anonymous reviewer who alerted me to the continuity error where I mentioned Bruce and Tim mysteriously forgetting that Damian was with Jason. I had a blonde moment...^^ It happens.**

* * *

><p>Bruce froze. He had been scanning through surveillance cameras for any signs of Jason and Damian, and had just witnessed his oldest son be hit by another car. Things like this terrified him, because no matter how well-trained you were or how prepared you tried to be, nothing could save you from accidents, disease…basic things people took for granted until the day they had to experience them.<p>

And Dick's police cruiser had just been hit by a black car that had been speeding and would have struck a child if Dick hadn't intervened. The other driver might have been drunk, or in a hurry, but for whatever reason, Bruce's eldest son could be dead because of it.

Without even thinking about it, he had pulled his cowl over his head and stood, bolting for the Batmobile. His voice was calm, even though Tim knew him well enough to know he was panicking. "Tim. Let Alfred know about what's happened. I'm going down there. If Jason comes back, I want you to tranquilize him. As much as he'll hate us for it, he needs to rest. He's not supposed to do much more than get up to go to the bathroom every few hours."

Tim nodded, hands trembling slightly as he pressed a few keys to zoom in on the footage of the wreck. The Batmobile started with a roar, before flying out of the Cave at ridiculous speeds.

The third Robin stood, preparing to go upstairs and tell Alfred what had occured, running a hand through his dark hair as he struggled to calm himself. Suddenly, he heard footsteps. Obviously, whoever was making the noise was trying to be quiet, but were failing.

Thinking quickly, Tim grabbed a length of bandages that were sitting on the medical cart nearby and tied them around his mouth and nose, hiding his identity without robbing him of his eyesight. He spun around right as a large man rushed at him, a large, meaty fist swinging at his face. Acting on instinct, Tim ducked under the attacker, slipping between two legs like tree trunks and bolting for the stairs. This was the _Batcave, _for crying out loud, random thugs didn't just walk in! He had to let Alfred know that something was horribly, horribly wrong.

The man turned and followed, rage in his eyes. Still, he didn't make a sound.

Tim was fast, but for every three strides he took, the man took one. It took only seconds for the thug to catch up and throw him into a wall. Tim let out a choked gasp as the air was forced from his lungs, sliding to the floor. He opened his eyes weakly, wondering if the Manor's sole occupant could have felt the vibrations from the attack. It was doubtful, he concluded. Alfred would probably be in the kitchen, too far for vibrations to travel and still be felt.

Before he could consider this, he was lifted from the floor by his throat and shoved into the wall again, his windpipe slowly being crushed. His vision swam before his eyes as his fingers clawed at the man's rock-like hands. The last thing he saw before he passed out was the moniter in the background, a green-haired figure dressed in purple advancing on the wreck of his brother's police cruiser with a syringe in his hand. The thug pulled a phone from his pocket and began to speak to someone on the other end.

"Yeah…I found one of the kids…so, where do ya want me ta put the gasoline again?"

* * *

><p>Dick didn't remain unconscious for long. He awoke with a choked gasped, looking around and assessing the situation. He didn't feel any injuries on his person, besides a large goose egg on his forehead and a dull ache on the inside of his elbow. Possibly a concussion, nothing he hadn't had before. As for the elbow, he must've landed on it wrong when the car was struck. He sat up, giving a small groan. He ached all over, but that was to be expected. He also felt dizzy and...detached. He must've hit his head harder than he thought or something. Twisting around, he tried to guess the degree of damage to his police cruiser from the inside. It looked like the passenger side was crushed inward, but the rest of it looked okay. Deciding to grab Jason's pills and get out, he reached his hand into the ruined glove box and felt around for them.<p>

They weren't there.

'Huh,' he thought, 'that's kind of weird…they must've gotten lost in the crash. Where else would they have gone?'

He reached for the handle of the driver's door, pushing. To his surprise, it wouldn't open. The door didn't even move. Sitting up, Dick could just barely see out of the cracked window. He had been shoved up against a streetlight, the car scrunched around it awkwardly with the black car that had struck him still stuck to the left front end.

"Ugh…Bruce is not going to be happy…" he grumbled, before leaning back and kicking out the driver's side window. Ignoring the broken glass, he carefully began to pull himself out. As he was trying to get his legs underneath him, he stumbled, falling backward.

Two warm and immensely powerful tan arms caught him, hooking under his arms and lifting him back onto his feet. "You are…alright?" Starfire asked, concern evident in her tone.

Dick grinned, despite himself. "I'm okay. What about the kid?"

Starfire gave a small smile, gesturing in a vague direction. Following her finger, Dick saw the boy from before being hugged tightly by all three of his other brothers. The eldest pulled back to scold him, before embracing him again. Suddenly, from out of the crowd, an angry-looking woman approached, a snarl on her face as she scooped the two toddlers into her arms and barked for the other two to follow her as they disappeared into the crowd again. Dick sighed. Maybe not the perfect imitation of their family after all.

He turned back to the Tameranean. "Is the other driver hurt?"

Bright green eyes looked at the ground. "I…I haven't checked. I was more concerned for your well-being."

Dick gave a small smile. "Hey, it's okay. Let's go check now, but just to be safe, I'll call the police. They can send an ambulance." he said, reaching into his pocket for his phone. He found nothing.

"Uh-oh…" he remarked, remembering he had tossed his phone into the glove box along with Jason's pills. A quick investigation led to him finding the mangled remains of what was one a very nice phone, now shattered as if crushed by a hammer.

"This complicates things…" Dick muttered, finding what was once the port next to the charger and withdrawing the tiny memory card; it appeared to still be in one piece. At least his photos were safe. He tossed the rest of the phone aside and carefully stuck the memory card into his uniform's pocket.

Meanwhile, Starfire had noticed Roy standing on a rooftop a block or two away, facing the opposite direction. He appeared to be searching the skies for Kori.

"I will go liberate Roy's cellular phone now." she announced, disappearing into an alley before taking to the air again. She didn't want to attract unnecessary attention to the fact that she seemed to know Dick. The public didn't need to know.

Soon, she landed silently behind the redhead, who was cursing into his phone loudly. "As soon as Kori picks me up, I'm flying to your place, because we all know you're there, and I'm gonna kill you in the face until you die! With FIRE!" he screeched, oblivious to the alien's sudden appearance. "And if you or the twerp so much as BREATHED wrong on my bike, I'll kill you, throw you in the Lazarus Pit, and kill you again!"

A short pause, and a small flicker of guilt appeared on Roy's face. He quickly snuffed it out, before yelling "...EVEN BETTER!" into the phone. Kori sighed, before casually snatching the phone from his grasp and flying a few feet above the roof so he couldn't try and get it back.

"Kori, give me back my phone!" he demanded, livid. She snorted, before holding the phone close, but not quite touching, to her ear. The last thing she needed was to melt it from her body heat.

"Roy, this is important. Wait a moment, please." she stated, before speaking again.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, back at the scene of the crash, Dick was asking nearby civilians to step back. It wasn't going well. Apparently, since he had been seen as a victim in the crash, the rowdy passerby didn't think they had to listen to him.<p>

"You heard the man. Please, step back for your own safety. We don't want anyone to get hurt." a familiar voice said from behind him. Dick whirled around, surprised at the figure that landed silently from the sky, cape waving in the breeze.

"Superman?" he asked incredulously. Seeing that particular meta, well, scratch that,_ any _meta in Gotham was rare, unless it was because of League business. Bruce didn't take kindly to his friends, or as he put it, 'allies', appearing in his town without warning.

The blue and red clad superhuman gave him a small frown. "Are you alright?" he asked, with just a touch more familiarity than he gave to the crowd. Wouldn't want to make anyone suspicious.

Dick shrugged. "I'll live. More importantly, why're you here, Supey? Not that I don't appreciate it, but you're a long way from home."

The older man gave a small smile as he located an undamaged roll of police tape in Dick's ruined car, and began making a line that civilians wouldn't be able to cross. It gave them a wide area where they could talk without worry of being overheard.

"What do you mean? I thought your old man would have known by now! The Joker showed up in Metropolis wreaking havoc a few days ago! That was his getaway car, by the way." he remarked, gesturing to the smashed black car. "He said there was a bomb in the back and wanted us to play a game of 'hide and go die'. I would have just checked for a bomb with my x-ray vision, but he had it in a lead case. So, I followed him here. Still, _he_ didn't know? I would've figured _he_ of all people would be the first on the scene!"

Superman didn't have to specify who 'he' was.

Dick frowned, approaching the other car. In all the excitement, he hadn't gotten a chance to check it out. At the same time, Starfire reappeared, landing beside him.

"Jason is glad you are unharmed. He also said not to call back unless something important happened." Starfire relayed. Dick's eyes glazed over momentarily.

"...Okay, I won't." he murmured in an odd voice, before speaking up again, eyes once again recieving their usual light.. "I feel so loved! Seriously though, let's go check out that other car. I hope whoever's in there isn't hurt."

The two heroes and vigilante approached the vehicle slowly, paling as they noticed the blood splattered on the window of the driver seat. Starfire carefully tore the door off, tossing it to the side.

Dick froze. The man in the driver's seat was clearly deceased, if the blood coating his torso was any indication. But it wasn't that which bothered him. As he lifted the man's limp head, it was clearly visible that someone had taken a knife and stabbed holes into the man's lips.

Slowly, as Dick uncovered more evidence, he began to realize what was happening. The crowbar tossed lazily on the dashboard. The red bucket in the backseat, propped against a disabled bomb with a small sticky note on it.

_Cheers! -J_

Dick's eyes were suddenly drawn to the dead man's hands. Clasped in them tightly were a small bottle of pills. Wrenching them free, his suspicions were confirmed. This was the kind of bottle Leslie used when prescribing medicine to the Batclan. He would've checked for the name, but the tag was missing. These were Jason's pills.

Superman gasped from behind him, catching a glimpse of the man. "Oh, wow…" he whispered.

Dick gave him a questioning glance, panicking inwardly. The Joker had returned, and apparently knew Jason was alive. The crowbar, the red bucket, the pills…oh, and the holes in the man's lips, probably a play on the fact that Jason had a few tiny scars above his lips from having his mouth forcibly sewn shut back when he and Tim had been captives together.

"You can't see because of all the blood, but…there's a message spelled out in the stab wounds…" Superman said.

Starfire turned to him expectantly. "What is it?"

"Er…it reads 'I found you!' followed by a smiley face…" Superman admitted, confused as to what the message meant.

Dick went completely white. He knew _exactly_ what it meant.

Starfire suddenly flipped open Roy's phone, dialing Jason's number. He needed to know what they had uncovered.

"Jason?" she asked shakily. There was the sound of screaming from the other end, followed by Starfire making a surprised face.

"We looked into the other car…Damian, it was one of the Joker's henchmen. He is dead."

Dick made a face as well. "Damian?" he mouthed.

"The method of his death…he didn't die in the crash. He had….a message carved into his chest. It read 'I found you!' and a smiling face was underneath it. And…Dick had Jason's pills in his glove box. We found them in the man's hands. The side of the bottle would've had his real name on them, because Bruce got them from Leslie Thompkins." Starfire explained quickly.

The was the sound of angry screaming, followed by not as loud complaints.

Kori nodded, a look of alarm on her face. "I will request Dick to come to your assistance. For now, I must go- your father will arrive here soon."

* * *

><p>Jason grimaced, ignoring the aching pain in his leg. He rubbed it subconsciously, hoping Damian didn't notice. He had already discovered that his meds were mysteriously absent, and deduced that he must have lost them somewhere between the Manor and his apartment. Wow, Bruce was going to be even more 'not happy' with him than he already was.<p>

He had inspected his food supply in the apartment and found it was in relatively good condition. Despite what people might have assumed about how he lived, he _always_ had plenty of food on hand. He could remember back to a time when he and his adoptive mother would sit in their small apartment, the sharp, stabbing pains of starvation affecting them and hope that maybe Willis Todd would come and bring them something, _anything _to eat. Sometimes he did, more often he didn't.

After living like that for so long, Jason never wanted to feel hungry again.

He reluctantly allowed Damian to have the kitchen, stepping aside as he began to make two tuna sandwiches and a box of macaroni. Alfred had insisted on teaching all of the Robins a small amount of basic cooking skills, and even Jason found that the lessons paid off. He probably would have lived off of Pizza Rolls and microwave dinners without them.

Suddenly, his cell phone went off. Jason picked it up slowly, as if it was a bomb about to explode. His face twisted into a frown as he saw 'Stupid Ginger' glowing on the front cover. Reluctantly, he flipped it open, squeezing his eyes shut as he spoke quietly.

"…hello?"

_"YOU SON OF A BITCH! Do you have ANY idea just how much trouble you're in, not just with Bruce, but with ME? Oh, I'm gonna kick your ass SO HARD once that leg heals! Hell, I might not even wait, because then you can't run away!"_ Roy screeched. Jason's eyes bugged as he held the phone away.

"Roy, calm down! Jesus, it's not that big of a deal!"

_"Not that big a deal? Oh, buddy, you have NO IDEA! As soon as Kori picks me up, I'm flying to your place, because we all know you're there, and I'm gonna kill you in the face until you die! With FIRE!"_ Roy hissed murderously. _"And if you or the twerp so much as BREATHED wrong on my bike, I'll kill you, throw you in the Lazarus Pit, and kill you again!"_

Jason flinched, his tone becoming cool. "The Lazarus Pit can't bring back the dead."

_"...EVEN BETTER!"_

There was the sound of wind on the other end, followed by a small cry from the archer.

_"Kori, give me back my phone!"_

_"Roy, this is important. Wait a moment, please."_ the female alien stated, her voice cracking slightly before speaking again. _"Jason, I witnessed a car accident on my way to your home…it was Dick's car and another vehicle."_

Jason's breathing hitched, although he'd deny it later. "D-Dickie-bird? He's okay, right?" From his spot in the kitchen, Damian looked up, eyes narrowing as he silently asked the same question.

_"He is in one piece. He was walking around the wreck. I flew down to check on him."_

Jason breathed a sigh of relief, but quickly masked it with his harsh words. "Cool. Good for him. Call me if anything _important _happens." he sneered, pushing the 'end' button forcefully.

'_Careful, Todd, your emotions are showing,' _he mocked himself internally, before giving a sigh of disdain. Once again, he had been the cause of someone he lo- someone he didn't totally hate- being hurt. Damian stormed up to him, hands clenched into fists.

"Is Grayson uninjured?" he demanded coolly.

Jason ran a hand through his hair that was becoming slick with sweat. His leg was really starting to bother him, and this time he was pretty sure Damian noticed his discomfort.

"Y-yeah…he's fine. The alien broad said that he was walking around, so he can't be hurt too badly."

Damian shot him a withering look, before sitting down across from him an eyeing his injured leg suspiciously. "Todd." he began, his voice betraying a bit of…dare he think it…concern. "I want to return to the Manor. I cannot stand to stay in this pigsty for a moment longer."

Jason scoffed, but wearily got to his feet, leaning much more heavily on the crutches than he had before. He hobbled over to the door, using not only the crutches, but the doorframe as support as well to fumble at the doorknob with unsteady fingers. He finally succeeded in opening it.

However, as he went back to leaning his weight on both crutches evenly, the one with more pressure on it abruptly slid across the floor, leaving Jason to crumple with it.

"_Shit!" _he cried in pain as his injured leg drove roughly into the cement floor. For a second he just laid there in unimaginable agony, until he felt himself being lifted into a sitting position and leaned up against the wall. He could see Damian crouched in front of him, yelling something, but he couldn't hear him. His leg hurt so badly…

* * *

><p>Right at that moment, around the corner came a sleek black car. It pulled to a stop outside the police tape. The door opened, the small crowd of civilians gasping and falling silent as the Batman appeared. Many of them had never seen him at all, and <em>never <em>in broad daylight.

"Thought bats didn't come out during the day?" Superman joked.

"…hrn. What are you doing here?" he asked coldly, voice not much more than a snarl.

"The Joker." Superman said simply, rubbing the back of his head. To his surprise, Batman visibly flinched.

"I knew he wouldn't be fooled by Jason's second death…" he murmured, piquing the Man of Steel's interest.

"But why would he care about Jason in the first place?" he asked. Batman set his jaw, giving Superman a warning look.

"Long story short, Joker wants Jason dead. I was going to hide him under the new identity of a Romanian foreign exchange student named Decebal Anghelescu because his identity has been compromised…well, that won't work now, will it?"

Superman gave a small smile. "'Brave angel?' It's not like you to get sentimental."

Batman's frown deepened; clearly he hadn't expected anyone to known the meaning of the name. He began to stride towards the alley, pacing. "It's not sentimentality to care about your family. Surely you of all people know that." he said coldly, referring to Superboy's recent adoption by the caped crusader.

Superman's face fell as he followed after him. "Hey, don't be like that…you know what I mean."

"Hn."

As they stood in the alley, out of view of the rest of the populace, Superman filled Batman in on the evidence in the car, the Dark Knight's eyes narrowing angrily as he put two and two together.

"That proves it, then. Joker is after Jason again. Let me check the body, I want to see if-argg!" Without warning, Batman pitched forward, grasping his skull. Superman, surprised, lunged forward and caught him, saving him from cracking his head on the wall of the alley.

"Batman! What's wrong?" he asked frantically.

"Nngg…"

"Talk to me! What's wrong with you? What can I do?" Superman asked, carefully setting him down on the ground. Bruce groaned, before suddenly rolling onto his side and vomiting loudly. He suddenly glanced up at the other man, glaring.

"…What the…hell…are _you_ doing…in my city, boy s-scout?" he asked forcefully.

Superman was at a loss. "What are you talking about? Don't you remember? The Joker…he's in Gotham, and he knows Jason's alive-"

"Joker…is back? H-have…have to warn…Jason…he's in trouble…" Batman struggled to get to his feet, trying in vain to push Clark away. The concerned Kryptonian merely blocked his path, placing two hands on his friend's shoulders.

"Listen to me! You blacked out for a second…when you woke up, you didn't remember anything that happened in the past few minutes! You threw up and you were in pain…" Superman began. Bruce's eyes flashed with understanding behind the cowl.

"I need…t-to get to L-Leslie…she knows what to d-do…" Abruptly, his legs failed to support him, and he collapsed against the other hero. Superman carefully lifted him into his arms and took off, flying fast enough that no one would be able to get a clear picture of who he was carrying. He had to find out what was wrong with his friend.

* * *

><p>"-diot! Talk to me, Todd! <em>Todd! <em>Don't you _dare _pass out!" Damian screeched, approaching panic as the older boy abruptly went limp, fainting from the sheer intensity of the pain. "Dammit!"

Suddenly, Jason's phone rang again. Damian grabbed it out of his pocket, flipping it open.

_"Jason?"_ a feminine voice asked shakily.

Damian scowled, one hand slapping Jason's face to get him to wake up. "He's unconscious on the floor at the moment. What do you want?" he snapped.

There was a pause before Kori continued speaking. _"We looked into the other car…Damian, it was one of the Joker's henchmen. He is dead."_

The youngest Robin's eyes narrowed murderously. "Anything else?"

Kori paused. _"The method of his death…he didn't die in the crash. He had….a message carved into his chest. It read 'I found you!' and a smiling face was underneath it. And…Dick had Jason's pills in his glove box. We found them in the man's hands. The side of the bottle would've had his real name on them, because Bruce got them from Leslie Thompkins."_

Damian swore loudly. After all Jason had been through at the hands of that madman…why couldn't the Joker just leave him alone? Why couldn't he find another target to torment?

"Somebody needs to come to Todd's house and get him off the floor. I cannot lift him, I've already tried. He hurt his leg again and fainted." Damian grumbled into the phone, still trying to get Jason to rouse.

_"I will request Dick to come to your assistance. For now, I must go- your father will arrive here soon."_ With that, the alien hung up.

Damian gave a frustrated groan, sparing a glance at the unmoving teenager. Jason appeared paler than normal, and was sweating a bit. His hands were twitching slightly, even in unconsciousness. The younger boy made a face, refusing to admit that he was unnerved seeing the former Robin in such a fragile state. His whole life he had been raised around strength, so seeing someone he considered strong in such a weak position…it scared him.

Because if someone like Jason could be struck down by a simple leg injury…what did that mean for the rest of the Batclan? For the first time, Damian found himself facing the fact that none of them were invincible. Just because they were warriors in all senses of the word didn't mean that injuries gone wrong, or accidents they had no way to control couldn't eventually be the end of them.

Death. Damian hadn't really thought about it. It seemed so far away from everyone in his family. Even Alfred had an air about him that made it seem like he'd be there forever. The man was aging, as were the rest of them. Alfred was almost seventy, Bruce had just hit forty-three, Dick was twenty-four, Jason was…well, Damian didn't really know. He looked almost as old as Dick, which was impossible. He resolved that once he got a chance, he'd find out. Tim was sixteen, and Damian himself was twelve, soon to be thirteen.

He had never assumed he would die of old age; none of them would probably get that luxury. Still, he'd never thought of dying in the field, either. It seemed so unlikely that any of them could be killed by a simple bullet, or some thug, but it could very well happen.

He was broken out of his musings by Dick appearing in the doorway; in all the excitement, Damian had forgotten to shut it. The eldest Robin looked, heartbroken, at them both.

"…Jesus, Jay, what'd you do to yourself?" he asked no one, kneeling to scoop the teenager into his arms. He was surprisingly light. Gesturing with his head to the crutches, Dick carefully carried him over to a non-conspicuous pale blue car. As he was laid down in the backseat, Jason began to stir, glassy green eyes opening slowly. He stared at the ceiling, recognizing it as the interior of the Batmobile.

"…wha-?"

"New cloaking technology designed by Lucius. The whole outside looks like a regular car." Dick explained, climbing into the driver's seat while Damian carefully slid the crutches in beside the injured teen. He then got into the passenger seat, sliding his seatbelt on slowly.

"Wh-what 'bout Harper's motorcycle?" Jason groaned, squeezing his eyes shut as his leg throbbed again.

Dick began inching backwards out of the driveway, sparing a glance at his younger brother. "It'll be fine, Roy can get it later."

"Mmm…m'kay…"

* * *

><p>Bruce had his head in his hands, boring holes into the floor with the intensity of his glare. He had just woken up in the hospital, and Leslie had just told him what the problem was, before leaving to search for a bottle of sleeping pills that had mysteriously gone missing. Clark was still there, despite Bruce's annoyed yells to get out of the room, go away, stay out of his business.<p>

Said superhero was watching him with the saddest eyes he had ever seen from his spot in the doorway.

"Bruce…I-I don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything. No one else needs to know. Do you understand? No one!" Bruce protested, fixing his gaze on the Man of Steel.

Clark looked concerned. "But-!"

"_No one, _God damn it, Clark!"

The superhero relented, sighing. "What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing. Forget about it." Bruce muttered, getting to his feet, grumbling about the hospital gown he had been required to wear under the guise of Bruce Wayne. Clark Kent had also replaced Superman.

"F-forget? Bruce, this is my fault! How can I just forget?" he asked incredulously. The Dark Knight sighed, turning to him.

"It wasn't your fault, it was my fault. It was a stupid mistake, and now I'm just paying for it." he stated coldly.

Clark's eyes flicked to the floor, crushed. Despite what Bruce said, he knew it was his fault for what was now happening. He knew high levels of radiation like that given off by Kryptonite could give humans cancer…or, in this case, a massive brain tumor.

"You couldn't have known the lead casing in the belt was torn… it wasn't enough to let any light out, just the-"

"Clark. _Forget it."_ Bruce snapped.

Clark began to grow frustrated. "No, I won't just 'forget it!' You're dying, Bruce! What's going to happen to the boys? Barbara? Steph? Cass? What about Gotham? You know Dick'll take up the mantle-"

"_No!_" Bruce interjected, looking horrified at the thought. "Clark, promise me…don't let Dick be Batman. Don't let _any _of them be Batman. Batman dies with me."

_Batman dies with me._

The way he said it was so ominous, as if there was nothing to be done.

"Bruce…can't you do something? Surgery, chemo, radiation therapy, _anything?" _Clark begged.

A snort. "Yes, because more radiation will help me at this point. No, there isn't anything they can do without possibly destroying healthy cells, which could leave me crippled permanently or a vegetable for the rest of my life. It's too late."

Clark's eyes burned with unshed tears. "Don't say that…there's got to be something-"

"There isn't. It's best to just give it up and let go. But, I need a favor." Bruce started uncertainly.

"Anything." Clark vowed.

"…Take care of the clan. They need someone to keep an eye on them, and without me…well, I'm not going to say they wouldn't be okay…but…I'd appreciate it if you could be there for them, just the same." the billionaire said.

Clark nodded, a black cloud descending over his heart as he turned to go. "Of course."

"Oh, and Clark?" Bruce called as Clark was almost out the door. "Remember, _no one _can know. I don't want to be treated differently just because…"

Clark nodded, leaving quickly before Bruce could see him cry. His closest friend… was dying. All Clark really wanted to do was tell someone that yes, Bruce Wayne, Batman, his best friend, father to several children, was going to be killed by a brain tumor, and it was completely Clark's fault. The scariest thing was that Bruce seemed to accept it. Then again, he had probably been mentally prepared for death for years; it was a dangerous line of work, after all. The reporter/superhero longed to be able to call Martha Kent, but he knew he had to honor Bruce's request of silence and secrecy.

His _last_ request.

* * *

><p>"You still awake, Jay?" Dick asked from the front seat.<p>

"Mmm…barely…"

They were heading up the road to the Manor, the trees still blocking their view of the grand house. Damian had taken to idly drumming his fingers on the armrest, while Jason stubbornly refused to fall asleep. He didn't want to have to either be woken up so soon or else carried inside. He wasn't a child.

Dick glanced into the rear view mirror at his brother, worried. He was still pale, still sweating, and still appeared to be in discomfort.

"The meds kicked in yet?" he questioned.

"…no." Jason responded quietly, face twisting in pain as they hit a bump. "'M jus'…tired…"

Dick frowned as he reached for the bottle of pills they had found in the dead man's hands. There were still traces of dried blood on the bottle, but Dick had wiped most of it away. He had carefully checked the pills inside, and they were Jason's pills-same size, shape, color, and everything. So why weren't they working?

He wondered again _why _he had let Jason talk him into giving him the pills. They _could_ be his meds, or they could be something that would make him hurt worse, maybe even kill him. Who knew? All Dick knew was that as soon as Jason had told him to hand over a few of the pills anyway, his head had gotten all fuzzy and it seemed like a perfetly good idea all of a sudden. So, he gave Jason three and started driving home.

"It's not too much further, Jaybird. We'll be back at the Manor soon, and then Alfred'll find out why the meds aren't working, and Bruce'll yell at you and then you can take a nap. It'll be-" Dick's statement was cut off as the Batmobile emerged from the thicket of trees, the Manor visible.

The entire building was fully engulfed in bright orange fire, smoke curling up past the lazy clouds and to the sky like the massive home was reaching upwards for help. Dick's eyes widened as he gazed on the sight in horror, watching his childhood quite literally go up in flames.

"Oh, God…" he whispered, the smell of smoke appearing in the car. Damian was staring at the building in shock, the events not quite registering.

"Wh-wha's goin' on?" Jason asked from the backseat, trying to get into a sitting position.

Dick gulped as he realized there was no sign of his brother and grandfatherly figure outside the house.

"Jason…th-the Manor's on fire…and I think Timmy and Alfred are still inside!"

* * *

><p>DJG: Dun dun DUHHH! I'm sorry, I'm such a cliffhanger whore…-_- Trust me, though, my random destruction of all that is dear to pretty much every character has a point in the plot! Or at least, there'll be a reason for it later.<p>

Muse: Oh my God! You are so evil to the characters! Are any of them going to make it out of this trilogy alive?

DJG: Gooood question! *evil grin*


	4. On The Friction

DJG: Wow. I am _so _sorry this took forever to update. Any followers of this story have probably died of old age already. I would give you a bunch of excuses, but in reality, I just had really bad writer's block. But I got better. XD

Muse: Cool. And it only took you four months.

DJG: SHH! Don't tell them and they won't realize how long it actually took! Also, I just _know _I probably forgot to add some important plot point in here _somewhere_, so drop me a review/PM if you have a question and I'll get back to ya.

Warning: Some parts of this chapter may be a bit squicky to some readers, just for description of internal organs and other such medical things. Also, I know next to nothing about the nature of fires, so if I make a mistake, pretty please don't shank me, just let me know in a review/PM and I'll correct it. :D

**EDIT: New cover is the cover for issue 16 of RHATO. I don't own!**

* * *

><p>The three brothers stared in horror at Wayne Manor as the flames screamed, snaking up the pristine walls and tearing the building apart.<p>

"If Tim and Alfred are trapped in there-!" Dick began.

"Then we gotta get them out." Jason grumbled, wiping sleep from his eyes. He didn't know why he was tired, but he ultimately decided to ignore his exhaustion and keep going.

Dick shot him a look. "No way, Jay. Your leg is hurt, and you can't even walk without crutches. Stay here, I'm going in." he said, quickly getting out of the car.

Damian, stood, eyes wide and angry. "I'm going, too!"

This time, both Jason and Dick protested.

"No way!"

"Not gonna happen, Demon Child. If I'm stayin' behind, so are you."

Damian scowled. "Fine, Grayson. But know this. As soon as you're gone, Todd will have no way to stop me from following you."

"Hey!"

Dick looked thoughtful, but ignored Jason's outburst, instead turning to Damian. "You've got a point…" he suddenly shook his head, looking puzzled, then angry. "Wait…_no_… I'm not letting you go inside a burning building! Look, we don't have time for this. _Stay here."_

With that, the eldest began moving closer to the fire, searching for a way inside.

Once he was no longer visible, Damian turned to Jason. "This is foolish. I can help. I'm going inside, too." he stated, opening the car door. To his surprise, he heard no protests. Just the sound of a car door opening and closing again.

"Fine. Lead the way, brat. If you're going in, so am I." Jason nodded in the direction of the house, before beginning to trek down towards the house, Damian right in front of him.

They got as close as they dared, the heat too painful to just walk right up to it. "This isn't working. We need another way in." Jason remarked. Just then, his eyes fell on an open window that seemed mostly lacking in fire. He frowned, turning to Damian and judging his size.

Damian seemed to understand his thinking. "Yes, I can fit. Give me a boost." he commanded. Jason carefully looped his fingers together, crouching as much as he could on his leg. Damian backed up a bit, before running and jumping off of the impromptu foothold and doing an impressive aerial somersault into the window. He just barely fit.

"Now what, Todd?" Jason heard Damian ask over the roar of the fire.

"I'm thinking, I'm think- oh shit. Get away from the window!" Jason yelled loudly, backing up quickly as a nearby tree that used to provide shade began to creak ominously. The trunk snapped suddenly as the flaming branches gave in and collapsed forward, onto the Manor.

He heard nothing inside except the crackling of his childhood going up in smoke.

"Damian! Are you okay? _Dammit, _your dad is gonna _kill _me!" Jason cried, pacing as he searched for another way inside. He quickly rushed around the edge of the house, eyes calculating as he scanned up and down the walls for-there. Perfect.

The window of the living room stuck out from the house in a sort of Victorian-style way, almost like a balcony that rested on the ground, not that Jason was complaining. It was his way up to the open window above it. As he pulled himself on top of the jutting out window, he idly wondered why so many of the goddamn windows were open in the first place. Soooo not a good idea.

Jason stuck his good leg through the metal opening in the crutch to make sure he wouldn't lose it, before gripping the ledge. "Damn, Todd, lay off the ice cream." he grumbled as he slowly began to pull himself up. Once he was up far enough to brace himself with his elbows, he grabbed the crutch and threw it inside, before rolling into the room. He scanned it quickly-ooh. Whoops. He was in Bruce's room.

Nothing seemed to be amiss, but there was an abnormal amount of medications on the bedside table. Jason ignored this, crouching down to avoid the smoke that seemed to be pouring into the room from under the door. He inched forward, carefully pressing his hand to the door and feeling for heat. It was cool to the touch. Good. He cracked the door open slowly, knowing that if there was fire close, the back draft could cause an explosion.

He found himself in the hallway, no fire to be seen. Just smoke, and lots of it. He had to rely on his childhood memories of the Manor to find his way towards the room he had last seen Damian in.

"Hello? Dick! Damian! Where the hell are you?" he cried loudly to be heard over the fire.

He paused, hearing a faint yell that faded in and out of audibility.

"…ason? Jason, is that y…?"

Jason ran forward, his crutch catching on a doorframe much to his impatience. "Hey? Talk again, where are you?"

This time, the voice was louder and clearer.

"It's me, Tim! Me and Alfred are locked in the cave! He's still unconscious, but I think he'll be okay!"

Jason rounded the corner and swore. He could see a large bookshelf had been shoved over the entrance to the cave, the grandfather clock door thrown to the side and broken on the ground. The bookshelf was just short enough for Tim to slip his arm up to the elbow through the crack, but he was too small to do anything at that angle except wave his arm around. The bookshelf was heavy enough to prevent its removal. The other problem was the fire at the end of the hall, quickly approaching.

He rushed forward. "Kid, move your arm!" he instructed. Tim obeyed, right as Jason rammed his shoulder into it as hard as he could. The thing shook a bit, but didn't move other than that. Quickly, Jason grabbed his crutch and shoved it through the crack at the top, adjusting it so that it was able to jam firmly against the top of the entrance of the cave and the bookshelf.

"Use yourself as counterweight and help me move it!" Jason instructed, glancing worriedly at the quickly approaching flames. Tim nodded and pulled down on the crutch while Jason pushed up. The result was the bookshelf shuddering, before falling forward towards Jason. He evaded it smoothly, grabbing his crutch as he saw Tim standing at the top of the stairs, eyes wide and a small trickle of blood dripping down from a cut hidden by his dark brown hair. A few feet behind him, Alfred was unconscious, leaning up against the wall.

"Smoke inhalation. They threw him in here after they started the fire." Tim said by way of explanation.

Jason's eyes narrowed. "Whoever 'they' is better watch their damn backs. They're _not_ getting away with this. Now, c'mon, help me lift him!"

Together, they maneuvered Alfred into a standing position, before Jason paused. "Wait…the grandfather clock is built to withstand this kinda stuff, right?" When Tim nodded, Jason managed to lift the heavy clock back into place and seal the entrance to the cave, but not without some effort on his part.

He resumed his position on Alfred's left, his crutch propped under his free arm. They moved as quickly as they could down the hall away from the advancing fire, crouching as they tried in vain to avoid the smoke.

Without warning, they heard a loud slam. Tim and Jason both looked up in surprise as they mentally assessed what the noise was.

"I reeeeally hope that wasn't the sound of the Manor starting to collapse." Tim said nervously.

Jason shook his head, blinking. His eyes were growing heavy from a combination of both the previous exhaustion he had and the smoke. "Nah, it wouldn't be that far along yet…I think it came from the library. Let's check it out. Even if it wasn't anything, there's a window in there that we might be able to break."

Tim gave him a strange look. "You…seriously want us to go into a room full of highly flammable paper…in the middle of a burning building?"

Jason bit his lip. "Well, when you put it like _that…"_

Tim winced, coughing into his elbow as he tried to filter out the smoke. "Whatever, it's all we've got right now. Come on."

The rebel nodded, helping carry Alfred until they got to the door. He felt it carefully, but when he didn't sense any heat on the other side, opened the door wide.

And froze.

There, sitting in one of the comfortable armchairs with a TV in front of him, was a familiar red and black figure, smiling cheerfully.

"Hiya, birdboys~! It's been awhile. How've ya been? Wanna watch TV? There's a reeeally funny story on right now!" Harley giggled, crossing her leg and gesturing to the television, which was in the middle of a news report.

"_-reaking news, it appears the criminally insane 'Clown Prince of Crime', the Joker, has turned in a list to the Gotham City Police Department from his cell in Arkham Asylum that appears to have the names of every henchmen that has ever been in his employment over the past fifteen years! Why he would sell out over 200 men now, so suddenly, is the real question. Meanwhile, around ¾ of these henchmen have already been placed under arrest this afternoon, mostly for previous charges. The other portion will simply have to wait, as Blackgate prison, for the first time in a long time, is now too full to accept any more prisoners. The remaining prisoners have been sent to Arkham Asylum, where they will remain until nearby prisons can accept more of these felons, which could be a few weeks, at most."_

Tim did his best to fall into a defensive position with Alfred weighing him down. Jason leered at Harley, eyes narrow.

"What's the Joker planning, huh? Even he's not stupid enough to turn in all of his muscle just for fun." he stated, blinking slowly as he once again pushed aside that annoying urge to close his eyes and sleep. He didn't bother pretending he wasn't the Red Hood; obviously Joker and Harley had deduced all of their secret identities, if finding Tim and Alfred stuffed in the Batcave was any indication.

Harley laughed. "Aw, Jare-Bear, you're _adorable._ It's not about the fun this time. See, Mistah Jay's setting up for one of his best jokes yet! And the punch line is- well, I can't tell you _that, _but trust me, it'll be a scream! You should be more worried about you and little Dickie." As she said this, she draped herself out so that her legs were hanging over the edge of the armchair and she was looking at them upside-down, seemingly not bothered by the fact the building they were in was engulfed in flames.

Jason's head snapped up, alarm written all over his face. "What the hell did you do to us?"

Harley laughed. "It's not what _I _did. It's what _Mistah Jay _did. See, he found this really great medicine at some clinic when he was lookin' for Brucie! Some sorta super-strong sleepin' pills or something. Then, when he crashed into yer brother's cop car, he swapped your pain meds for the sleepin' pills. He wanted ya to be asleep for this next part, but what can ya do? Oh, and when Dickie was unconscious, he gave him something', too! I dunno what it is, exactly, but it makes ya really open to suggestions! That's why when you told Dickie ta give ya the pills anyway, he did! I think it's starting to wear off, though…how boring!"

Jason shook his head, irritated. Sleeping pills he could deal with. Meds that made you gullible and susceptible to orders…Dick could probably handle, especially since it was apparently close to wearing off. "Okay then, tell me this, Harley. Joker wanted me dead. That much is obvious. So why did you save me from that water tower? I would've gotten stuck in that pipe and drowned!"

Harley's grin disappeared and she twisted around to face them right-side up. "No reason, I just felt like it, Little Red. Besides, you _should _be thanking me, not pestering me with stupid questions! I coulda just left you in there, y'know! And do you know how _hard _it is to fish a liver outta the friggin' _water lines? _Er…I mean… Whoops." As soon as she said that, she covered her mouth with both hands, looking away with both eyes squeezed shut as she began to hum the National Anthem loudly.

Tim had been watching this exchange with calculating eyes that suddenly widened with realization. "Jason…it was Ivy! I bet Harley didn't know the Stinger in the water would kill her, so she went looking in the pipes…and found _you_. After you 'died', we checked the water and found a bunch of Ivy's…well, a bunch of her organs were jammed down an offline pipe. Batman had them tested to make sure they were hers and not…well…yours. Turns out the Stinger just melted her down halfway. The antidote was in her skin, remember? After that, it just became pretty much regular water, except it stopped most of Gotham from dying a painful death. But, Jason…we _never_ found her liver."

Jason flinched, hand flying to the scar on his stomach. "Are…are you saying…that transplant I got…was from Poison Ivy?"

Harley sighed, kicking her feet. "Red always said that if she died, she wanted me to make sure that she ended up helping plants. _Always_ the _plants. _And she thought you Bats were a bunch of sniveling _weeds. _But weeds are plants too, aren't they? Mistah Jay wanted you to die really bad, Little Red, but Ivy didn't always like Mistah Jay's way of thinkin'. We used to mess with 'im all the time. So, since she wasn't there tah do it, I figured…playin' one last prank on 'im wouldn't be the end of the world. Y'know…fer old times' sake. The curtain call, the last big shebang!" Harley laid dramatically out on the chair as she finished her explanation.

Tim coughed quietly into his fist, reminding Jason that the smoke was becoming a problem, and HEY, they were still in a burning building.

"So, now what?" Jason asked suspiciously. Just because Harley had saved him once didn't mean she necessarily wanted him to _stay _alive.

The female clown chuckled and pulled a small object seemingly from nowhere. "Now? Now, bird boys, we get to play a game. It's one of my favorites! It's called, 'Don't Get Blown To Pieces!' Have fun!" she crowed, pressing the button. Instantly, the library came alive, several small screens lighting up and flashing a timer ominously as they could see rows and rows of explosives that they hadn't noticed before.

0:05

0:04

0:03

Jason swore loudly, turning and slamming the library doors shut. Possibly the large wooden barrier could offer some protection. The last thing he saw inside was Harley waving mockingly after them. Tim looked to him somewhat expectantly, and Jason realized in that fleeting instant it was because he had dealt with bombs and the Joker before. Only last time, he died. He had only one plan right now, and it was more instinct than anything else. It had worked last time...hadn't it?

Jason quickly pushed Tim and Alfred to the floor, covering them with himself as he played human shield. There was a split second of total silence as even the fire seemed to have frozen, the soft 'beep' of the timer hitting zero, and then the world exploded.

* * *

><p>Dick was coming around a corner when he saw Damian exiting a room quickly.<p>

"Damian, what are you doing here? I told you to wait outs-" he began, but was cut off.

"Move, Grayson!" the younger boy demanded, pushing him back and away from the room. Not only did Dick trust him enough to listen when he used that tone of voice anyway, he also had the oddest compulsion to obey helping him scramble backwards even as he stumbled and fell.

Without warning, a flaming tree appeared to fall out of the room Damian had just been in, sparks flying everywhere. Dick hissed as a few hit his arm and quickly got to his feet, rushing away from it as the floor began to fall in around it.

"Todd was out there. I hope…I… He _better_ have gotten out of the way!" Damian snapped, turning the corner. Dick gritted his teeth.

"Damian, I _told_ you two to wait in the car! _Why_ didn't you listen?" he asked furiously.

Damian scoffed. "Tt. Because if we hadn't disobeyed, you would've just been crushed by a tree. And then Todd would've had to be Nightwing again, and if you remember, it didn't work out well the last time." **(1)**

Dick shuddered at the memory. "Point. Still, Bruce is going to kill me."

"His mansion is on fire. He's going to kill _lots of people._"

Right as Damian was about to cross in front of an open door, Dick grabbed him by the shoulders and roughly tugged him back, right as fire burst from the room and out into the hall right where he was standing seconds ago.

"Be more careful! C'mon, let's see if Tim and Alfred are hiding out in the cave!" Dick said, before the floor beneath his right leg abruptly gave way and he began to fall into the room below the one they were currently in.

Damian lunged forward and caught his arm, swearing loudly in Arabic as his arms were burned by the flames under them. Dick managed to brace himself on the picture frame of his parents hanging on the wall **(2) **below him and push against it just enough to help haul himself onto solid ground.

The youngest Batchild huffed indignantly, glancing away to hide the concern in his eyes. "Why don't you take your own advice, Grayson?"

Dick, however, seemed to understand what he was really trying to say, and gave a sad smile as he rubbed at his injured arms subtly. "I'm fine, Damian, just a few burns. Now, let's go find Tim and Alfred. We'll both be careful from now on, all right? You watch my back, and I'll watch yours."

Damian scoffed, but his tough-guy act was cut off by a coughing fit that he tried in vain to hide. "Tt. Like you *cough* had to *cough* ask."

Dick smiled, and together, they made their way quickly down the hall until they reached the staircase. Both of the metal railings were untouched, but the mahogany wood of the last few steps were aflame.

The older boy assessed the situation, before turning to Damian. "Always wanted to teach you how to do this, I just never though it'd be this way. Follow me!" Dick instructed, before perching on the railing just like he had when he was only nine. He slid down just as quickly as usual, only instead of waiting until he reached the bottom, the first Robin did a flip off the railing and over the fire, landing untouched on the other side of the room.

Damian blew hair out of his face. "What is it with you and Todd trying to _teach_ me things?" he asked in a mock-annoyed fashion, before following Dick's lead and sliding down the railing. He executed the move perfectly, even throwing in an extra flip just to show off. Dick clapped twice, smirking.

"Impressive, Little D. Now, come on…the cave's gotta be close…it's just hard to tell where exactly with all this smoke."

They ended up stumbling across it by total accident…literally. Damian ended up tripping over a bookshelf that had been left knocked over in front of the grandfather clock.

"How did this get here?" he demanded as he got to his feet with as much dignity as possible. "The fire couldn't have moved this! It was probably Drake!"

Dick snickered, but broke off as a rafter collapsed too close to them for comfort, flames leaping from it. He flipped up the marble bust's head to push the button to open the cave doors, but nothing happened. With the fire approaching quickly and no other options, Dick simply walked forward and physically moved the grandfather clock, a feat which would've been impossible if it hadn't been broken already.

Damian rushed past him, inside, just as Dick lost his grip on the heavy clock and it fell back into place. But, they had made it. They were both inside the cave.

Unfortunately, they were the only ones. The cave was completely barren of anyone else.

"Damn! I would've thought they'd be down here!" Dick swore, before quickly moving down the steps and over to the Batcomputer. He hit a few buttons until the screen lit up red, before turning away. "There. Bruce, the police, the fire department, and the hospital have all been informed. Now, let's go see if we can move the clock and go find Timmy and Alfre-"

Dick was cut off by a distant 'boom', followed by the floor of the cave shaking violently. The bats above them shrieked and began flying around wildly, except instead of leaving the cave like they normally did when startled, they circled back and flew around the two boys wildly. They both stumbled, looking around as the shaking stopped and the Manor was silent once again, except for the crackling of flames and screaming bats above them.

Damian looked up to Dick, a frown on his face. "I don't suppose you know what that was, do you, Grayson?"

Dick could only stare. He had no response. All he could do was shrug somewhat hesitantly and pray his other two little brothers and grandfather figure were okay.

* * *

><p><strong>(1) My God, that comic was terrible. You all know what I'm talking about, right? If you don't, consider yourself lucky. And never look it up. Ever. Please. Don't torture yourself like that. Because you will get pregnant. And die. Just…don't do it, promise?<strong>

**(2) Pretty sure I saw this in a Batman cartoon one time. If not, just pretend there's a giant ornate painting of Dick's parents hanging up someplace.**

**Fun Fact: Originally, I had planned for Jason to go in by himself, and Damian would take advantage of Dick's condition to follow him inside, leaving poor Dickie-bird outside all alone. But, see, my inner Dick gave me the finger and went inside anyway, sprinting past my inner Jason and Damian while yelling 'Na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na na **_**BATMAN!' **_**Whelp, that's just dandy. Oh well. It worked here. XP**


	5. I'm Right

DJG: I'm a bad person, I'm a bad person, I'm a bad person…I have no excuse for being late to update, so here! Take this humble peace offering of a chapter and please don't stab me with a spork!

Muse: *hands out free sporks*

* * *

><p>Tim woke up suddenly, letting out several loud coughs as he tried to blink the ash out of his eyes enough to see. He could feel something pinning him down, and once his vision was no longer impaired, he saw what, or rather, <em>who <em>had him pinned down.

He couldn't see his face, just an unruly mop of black hair with that still-gray patch in the front. Idly, Tim wondered if the spray paint would ever wash out completely. Jason was laying limply over both he and Alfred, who was to his left. Slowly, it all began to come back to him.

The library…the bomb…Jason playing human shield…

Tim winced, ignoring the way his head was ringing and his right arm throbbed as if broken. _'Probably inevitable from an explosion that large…' _he though to himself, before quickly glancing around. They were surrounded by charred wood on all sides, including above. It was uncomfortably close, but his concern was being buried alive under the rubble of the library. For some reason, the wood wasn't as heavy as he thought it would be.

Then he realized it was probably because Jason was supporting most of the weight on his back.

"Jay? Hey! Talk to me, are you okay?" Tim asked semi-frantically, trying to use his uninjured arm to push up on the wood. Luckily, it wasn't too heavy, indicating that they weren't buried very deep like he had originally thought. Still, he didn't have enough strength in one arm to lift it.

He received no reply, and one of Jason's arms were tucked between himself and Tim's chest, preventing the third Robin from being able to tell if he was breathing.

"Alfred, are you conscious?" he called weakly, coughing again. His throat was filled with ash, and he would have traded his laptop for a glass of water in a heartbeat.

A small wheeze from next to him. "As conscious as a sixty-one year old man can be under these circumstances, Master Tim." Well, at least Alfred's awake enough to be himself.

Tim breathed a sigh of relief and slowly tried to move again.

"Master Tim, if I may suggest, perhaps shifting your weight your dominant side would allow you enough strength to move some of this debris?"

Tim shook his head, before realizing that Alfred couldn't see it anyway. "I can't. My right arm is broken, and there's no way to get a good angle from where Jason's at."

A pause. "Does he appear unharmed, Master Tim?"

The third Robin coughed as more dust fell. "I-I don't know…give me a second…" He took his uninjured arm and shifted it to the side enough to grab Jason's wrist and fumble it for a moment as he rolled up the sleeve. One second passed. Two. And then-

Tim breathed a sigh of relief. "He's alive. He's okay."

Suddenly, the body above him let out a heaving cough that went on for about half a minute. "That…*choke* remains to be seen…*wheeze*…s-so...speak for yourself…_Replacement!"_

At that point, Jason could have called him every curse word he knew…in every _language, _and it wouldn't have stopped Tim from grinning the way he did, as Tim noticed the way the older boy hastily tacked the insult on at the end, almost as if he had forgotten it. "Nah, I'd rather have you talk for me. It's good to know you're not dead."

Another cough. "Same. Alfie, are you-" Jason was cut off by a loud hacking wheeze that _didn't _come from any of the three Bats buried underneath the rubble, followed by a string of quiet curses overlaced with a distinct Brooklyn accent.

Tim's eyes narrowed as his face twisted into a disgusted snarl. "Harley!"

Said jester merely gave a rather unladylike grunt, before Tim heard the distinct sound of splintering wood. "Yeah, yeah, whatevah! I'm gettin' outta here! See ya, Bird Brain 2, 3, and Butlah Head!"

Light appeared, shining down several feet away from them in between beams of wood. Squinting and temporarily blinded, Tim glared in Harley's general direction.

Suddenly, the wood being moved was drowned out by a loud, "Oh, I _told_ you that was the wrong amount of dynamite! Next time, make sure to get more, Harley!"

He froze, eyes wide. Now that he could see better, the darkness couldn't hide Jason biting his lip and flinching ever so slightly as they all heard the familiar voice of the Joker as he pulled Harley out of the rubble.

"Will do, Mistah Jay!" the female clown crowed loudly, grinning as she dusted off some wood splinters. The Joker glanced down, eyes locking with Tim's before giving a delighted grin.

"Oh, goodie, one of the birdies lived! How's the weather down there, Tweety?" he asked cheerfully, squatting down to get face to face with Tim. The third Robin curled his lip in disgust, before doing the only thing he could do to lash out with both hands trapped under the rubble- he spat in the Joker's face.

Harley gasped dramatically, covering her mouth with her hands. Joker's eyes widened and he blinked twice, before standing in a rage as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his face.

"Hmph! Now that was rude!" Joker paused and blinked, before his lips curled into a wicked grin. "My, my, isn't _this _familiar? If I didn't know any better, I'd mistake you for the Hoodie! Why are you Bird Brains all so _mannerless? _Did Batsy really raise you so poorly?" As he said this, he approached the hole in the rubble again. However, this time, his path led him to stand directly above where Tim's body lay under the pile of wood.

Where Jason was buried.

As the extra weight was placed on his back, Jason tensed, face contorting in pain as he struggled to stay silent. Tim's uninjured hand quickly covered his mouth, in case any noise did slip out. Alfred shifted quietly, moving over to try and help support the dangerously creaking wood. Tim kept his face deliberately impassive, glaring up at Harley and the Joker with as much hate as he could muster. To himself, Tim thought, "_Huh, maybe we can pull this off!" _

Then Harley stepped forward to stand by her Mistah Jay.

Jason couldn't hold back a small choked noise, muffled by Tim's hand just enough to make them all pray that Joker hadn't heard it. They weren't that lucky.

"Oh ho ho! I heard a chirp! Is our guest of honor still alive down there?" Joker called, grinning maniacally. His eyes locked with Tim's. The third Robin had a cold feeling of dread pooling in his stomach. Suddenly, the twisted Arkham escapee began to jump up and down, stomping directly over where Jason was buried, laughing like a maniac at the agonized groans of pain that began to echo up out of the hole in the rubble.

Tim moved his good hand away to try and hold the wood off of Jason's back, even go so far as to move his broken arm up to help as much as he could, but even with Alfred's assistance, the way the clown was constantly jumping in unexpected places was making it nigh impossible.

Without warning, Joker suddenly stopped, a mischievous grin on his face as he spotted one of the large doors that had been blown off the entrance to the library. It was propped up against the wall, above a portion of debris, so that it was actually on a very large pile. Cackling to himself, Joker began to scale it until he was at the top, where he imitated the pose a diver must take. Tim's eyes widened in horror as he tried vainly to move Jason away from him and towards Alfred, to no avail.

"Jason, he's going to-!"

Joker leaped off the pile and landed right above the top of where Jason's spine would be, the wood splintering and giving in under the force of the landing. There were several violent snapping sounds as the wood gave way, as well as one pulse-pounding and resounding **_CRACK_** that reminded Tim of the sound of a suicide jumper hitting the ground.

Jason's eyes widened and the horrified scream he made at that instant would haunt Tim and Alfred's nightmares for years to come.

* * *

><p>The bats were still circling around Dick and Damian, shrieking and flapping as they searched for a way out.<p>

Dick watched them, frowning. "I think all the ways out of the Cave have been plugged up, somehow. That's why they aren't leaving."

Damian sighed dramatically. "What a brilliant observation, Grayson. You and Drake must compare notes on stating the obvious."

Dick rolled his eyes. Really, what had he expected? Turning away, the eldest Robin began to inspect the clock again. To his surprise and annoyance, the failsafe had accidentally been disarmed. The movement and shoving of it back into place must have set it off. In the event of someone forcibly breaking into the Cave, the clock would discharge a sort of reinforced cement to keep anyone else out. The same failsafes were kept in all of the entrances into the Cave. Bruce had a solution that would dissolve it in his utility belt, but ever since he had figured out how to disguise the belt as a briefcase, he never left it at home.

Meaning, they were trapped until further notice.

"We need to find a way out. I've got a bad feeling that something happened up there. Something big." Dick intoned, pacing back in forth like a caged animal.

Damian scowled, eyes lighting up as he thought of something. "Grayson, follow me. I know a way out."

Dick glanced over, surprised, but followed the younger boy to his destination: the med bay.

Damian grabbed a gurney and dragged it over to a ventilation shaft, before carefully climbing onto it and using a nearby scalpel as a screwdriver to loosen the screws holding it in place. He finally succeeded in prying the grate off the wall, tossing it behind him and nearly hitting Dick in the process. The acrobat dodged nimbly, shooting a glare at Damian's backside as it disappeared into the ventilation system.

Meanwhile, Damian shimmied up the vent, pushing his back against one side and using the traction from his sneakers to climb the vent straight up. With expert ability, he managed to snag the edge of the horizontal vent that led directly to the back of the Manor.

Damian inwardly chuckled as he heard slight clanging noises from below him, followed by a yelp of annoyance and an echoey cry.

"Uh, Little D…? I think I'm stuck!"

Gray eyes widening in incredulous disbelief, Damian leaped down the shaft he had just climbed up and back to the med lab, only to find Dick's arms and upper torso firmly jammed in the passage.

The older boy gave an irritated sigh. "I'm stuck, Dami. You're going to have to get out of here and come back for me."

Damian furrowed his brow. "The Manor is ablaze, and-"

"-the fire can't get down here, remember? I'll be fine. Stuck, uncomfortable, and sore in awkward places, yeah, but fine. Go, and be careful! If the fire gets too close to the metal of the vent, it'll heat up, expand, and weaken. So, please don't fall through scalding hot metal and into a fiery inferno, okay?"

The youngest Robin looked away haughtily. "Tt. As you wish, Grayson." he stated formally, before continuing up the shaft and closer to freedom.

* * *

><p>DJG: Ahh, I know it's short, but for some reason this chapter just WOULD NOT LET ME WRITE IT. This was probably the most difficult chapter I have ever written for anything and I have no idea why. Normally the words just flow… D: Never fear! The next one <em>should<em> be longer, now that I've conquered this demon. Again, so sorry for taking forever and then offering up only this disappointment of a chapter…now, to work on the next chapter of Tekiya…


	6. Where I Should Be

DJG: Welp, hope no one gets too angry at me because of this chapter. Originally, I had this all planned out in advance, but then my inner Joker was all like 'Plan? Plans are overrated!' and changed the entire scope of the whole story. -_- Way to go, Napier. Now I have to make it up as I go along!

Muse: We don't own Batman n' shit. Oh, and **warning for this chapter. Character death and such. **It gets bolded cuz it's important. :P

* * *

><p>Bruce's eyes widened as the cop car slowly turned down the road leading towards the Manor. His home, going down in flames. More importantly, his family was inside, they <em>had <em>to be. Someone sent a distress signal from the Cave's computer a few minutes ago, but as far as he knew, Dick was still looking for Jason and Damian. Knowing his luck, however, they could be trapped in the inferno.

"Gordon, speed up. I don't care if you get pulled over for disobeying the speed limit, I'll pay the fine, just go!" Bruce said, not having to feign his distress. Gordon turned to him, a wry look on his face.

"If anyone tries to pull me over now, they'd have more to worry about than the fine not being paid." he said stonily.

By the time they arrived, fire trucks were already there, blasting water at the Manor. It wasn't working as quickly as they wished it would, but the firemen seemed to be making a pretty large dent overall. The whole west wing seemed to be put out, the middle front was nearly there, and the fire was being forced to move towards the eastern wing, where most of the rooms were storage or empty guest rooms that hadn't been used in around forty years.

Bruce had the door open and was out of the car before Gordon even had time to stop.

"Bruce, wait, you can't go in there! Police are going in as soon as the fire's smaller, just wait a minute!" the Commissioner yelled.

"_They might not have a minute!" _Bruce responded frantically. Right as the billionaire was about to dive through a window if he had to, one of the air vent covers on the second story fell out, a soot-covered face poked out with eyes squinting from the light.

It was Damian.

Bruce's heart leapt in joy and fear. Was he injured? Was anyone else with him? "Damian! Are you hurt?" he cried in concern, not entirely sure he was acting. The flames were leaping entirely too close to the boy for his comfort.

Damian coughed into his fist before answering, but his words were swept away by a large rush of flame beginning to inch closer.

Bruce pushed past the firemen and stood under the vent. "Damian, jump! The fire-!"

The boy nodded, a determined look on his face, before leaping out of the vent and landing safely in his father's arms.

True, it wasn't the most dangerous jump Damian had ever made, by a long shot, but the relief Bruce felt was just as palpable as when Robin jumped across several-hundred foot high gaps and didn't fall. He crushed his youngest to his chest, ignoring the way the soot was ruining his suit and that Damian was squirming uncomfortably. Bruce was just relieved that he was okay…or was he? Bruce abruptly pulled Damian away to arm's length and looked him up and down, searching for wounds.

"Are you positive you're not injured? No burns, no problems breathing?" Bruce demanded, hands wiping ash from Damian's face as if he was hiding injuries under it.

The youngest Wayne bristled under the touch, trying in vain to swat away the larger hands. "Father…Father! Stop it, I am unharmed! Father!" Damian insisted, before finally deeming it a waste of time and pouting with his arms crossed over his chest while Bruce inspected him. Once he was reassured his youngest wasn't physically hurt in any way, he pulled him back into his arms. Damian wondered to himself if his father was genuinely concerned or just playing the part.

"Oh, Damian…I was so worried…"

With his head as close as it was to Bruce's, Damian leaned up and whispered into his ear. "Grayson's stuck in the Cave. What do you propose to do about that?"

Bruce frowned, concern still in his gray eyes. "It he hurt?" he whispered back, lips not moving at all.

Damian snorted quietly. "He tried to follow me out of the air vent, the imbecile. He got stuck immediately."

A pause. "What about Tim, Jason, and Alfred? Are they in the Cave, too?" Bruce questioned.

The ten-year-old's shoulders hunched almost imperceptibly. Only a Bat would have noticed. Bruce hid the feeling he got as his heart plummeted into his shoes quite well.

"…They're not hurt, are they?" he asked with a calm voice, even as cold horror made its way through his veins. Damian looked up, eyes narrowed.

"I don't know. I didn't see Drake or Pennyworth at all. Todd helped me get inside through a window, but he couldn't climb up with his impairment. I don't know if he found a way in or not-"

Bruce's eyes widened as he cut him off. "You mean, you two went inside while it was on _fire-! Damian!_ Why didn't you just stay outside?!"

Damian flinched. "Technically, Grayson went inside with us, too," he said, continuing defensively when he saw his father's outraged face, "And we only went in to save Drake and Pennyworth!"

Bruce shook his head. "You shouldn't have done that. Tim and Alfred can handle themselves-"

This time, it was Damian who cut him off with a furious, "Then why aren't they out here!?"

Bruce looked away, at a loss for words, realizing he didn't have an answer.

* * *

><p>Tim was fairly certain that if he had his hands free and there was a firearm close enough, he would have most likely broken the Batfamily's most sacred rule. In a heartbeat. The way the Joker was laughing and square-dancing with Harley somewhere on the other side of the ruined library while Jason was lying unmoving above Tim like a puppet with its strings cut; it wasn't the same as one of the Joker's usual set-ups. There was always a joke involved, always a trick or set-up or <em>something <em>designed to provide the sadistic clown with his sick entertainment. This, _this _wasn't right. This was all about inflicting pain, as much as possible, almost like Joker thought that-

No…

That's not…

Tim shook away his negative hypothesis and focused on the matter at hand. _They_ needed help, Jason _desperately_ needed help, that snap could have been his neck, his back, his _spine…_

Suddenly, he heard yelling. "It's the Joker! Call for back-up!"

The police were here.

Joker grinned as he stopped prancing around, Harley looking smug. "Why, helloooo, coppers! A bit late, aren't you? Oh, well, that's fine! I can work with that!"

If he strained his neck, Tim could see a squad of about seven policemen, most with pistols drawn. The odd thing was, Tim hadn't seen any one of them before, either as Red Robin or himself. Then again, they might be from another part of town…

The one who had spoken appeared to be in charge, but it was also clear that he was new on the job by the way his hands trembled. His whole persona screamed 'terrified'. Then again, the Joker usually had the effect of scaring people senseless.

"I suppose this is when I'm supposed to make a break for it, right kiddo? Come on, I'll even give you a head start~! Come get me!" Joker invited, skipping cheerfully towards the hallway with Harley at his side.

Towards freedom.

Tim narrowed his eyes. _Unacceptable._

"Someone catch him!" he yelled furiously, the head cop simply standing there and watching the Joker escape with an idiotic look upon his face.

Joker cackled. "Yes, someone catch me! I'm escapiiiing~! Look, I'm getting away! AhahahahaHAHAHA! I've murdered old ladies, babies, and vigilantes, and GCPD is letting me walk away scot fr-"

One of the cops standing towards the back abruptly yanked out and fired his handgun, leaving a striking contrast of the purple of Joker's suit with the red stain beginning to stain the front of it. It was so sudden, not even Harley realized what happened until the purple-clad clown hit the floor, his wide grin not a bit faded, even in death.

"_MISTAH JAY!"_ she shrieked in agonized horror. Harley fell to her knees and began sobbing into his no-longer-rising-and-falling chest while the cop that had fired his gun rushed into the room and cuffed her hands behind her back.

Tim gaped in disbelief. He didn't know what to feel, elated that the Joker was dead and therefore couldn't hurt anyone ever again, or horrified for reasons he couldn't think of right now. It had happened so fast…he wasn't entirely sure what was going on.

Alfred spoke up quietly. "Master Tim? May I inquire as to what has just occurred?"

Oh, right, Alfred couldn't see from his position under the rubble.

"Th-they…shot Joker. He's dead." Tim spoke dully, still shocked.

Paramedics suddenly entered the library, a medical gurney between two of them. Three of them approached where Tim was buried, while the other two moved the Joker's corpse onto the gurney with quick efficiency, as if Joker wasn't the scourge of Gotham and a wanted man.

"Stop." Tim croaked urgently when the paramedics tried to get closer to him. The ash in his throat was more noticeable now that the adrenaline was starting to wear off. "There's someone above me, and he's hurt…I-I think his neck or spine or something is broken."

Two of them began to shift away the rubble carefully, while the third knelt down at the edge of the pile and started talking.

"Kid. Is anyone else stuck under there?" she asked, her black hair tied in a ponytail covered by a blue baseball hat.

Tim nodded. "Y-yeah. Our butler, Alfred, h-he's under here, too. I don't know if he's hurt or not, and if he was, he probably wouldn't tell me. British stoicism, and all."

The paramedic didn't laugh. "What's your name?" she asked, probably thinking of a whole list of standard questions to ask him.

Tim sighed. "My name is Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, I'm in the middle of the library of Wayne Manor, and it's a Tuesday. I'm not impaired in any way, other than my arm being broken, and I'm not dying. My br-, uh, friend, Peter, is the one above me. Satisfied?"

The paramedic cracked a wry smile. "Wise guy, arencha? Well, just hang on a sec. We'll get all three of you out." she said, laying a dark-skinned hand on the wood above where his shoulder would be.

One of the other paramedics turned to the one talking to Tim. "Carrie, we're almost done here. I think we can get the butler out first." He then turned to where Alfred was buried. "Sir? Can you move downwards at all?"

His slightly muffled response didn't lessen the fierceness in his words at all. "I suppose that I am capable of that, but not without letting more weight end up on Master Peter's back. And that is not currently in his best interests."

The paramedic nodded, understanding written on his face. "All right, then. Peter goes first. Eric, help me lift this beam." The other paramedic nodded, kneeling to pull the beam up. It took a bit of work, but the two paramedics managed to move it aside enough to catch a glimpse of Jason.

Tim couldn't see past the female paramedic to see Jason's condition, but by the expression on her face, it wasn't pretty. She quickly reached to her waist and pulled out a walkie talkie.

"We found Tim Wayne, the butler, and a friend of the family. We're going to need a stretcher in here, ASAP! Prep an ambulance. The friend is gonna need a neck and back brace, _at least,_ and Tim's gonna need a splint for his arm, too. The butler seems to be okay, but all three should be checked out for smoke inhalation."

Tim's eyes widened as he tried to look past her. "I-is Peter okay? Is he-?"

The paramedic gently held him down, preventing him from moving. "Tim. Tim, I need you to calm down, okay?" With one hand she pushed the button on the walkie talkie again. "Can you hurry up with that stretcher?"

Almost as if on cue, two more paramedics came in with a large stretcher, the braces and splint that she requested both sitting on top. They set it down beside them and very carefully began to position Jason on to it.

Tim finally got a clear look, and his heart stopped.

Jason's head would have slumped forward, but for one of the men holding it up carefully. That told Tim there was some kind of neck or spine damage. In fact, the older boy's entire body was limp, completely unmoving except for his fingers giving an occasional twitch.

But what might have been the most frightening thing was the fact that Jason wasn't unconscious.

His eyes were wide, bright green standing out against his pale skin. His eyes darted around frantically, even though he didn't make a sound. Tim gulped, before quickly trying to get up-

-and was pushed right back down.

"Tim, wait a second. We need to get your arm in a brace." the female paramedic insisted, ignoring Tim as he watched Jason being carried away. Poor Alfred seemed conflicted as to who to stay by, so Tim waved him away.

"Go with Peter, make sure he's okay!"

Alfred nodded, and followed behind as gracefully as a British man walking over rubble and charred wood could be.

* * *

><p>"Whew! Thank God I'm outta there!" Dick said dramatically, stretching. He had waited until Damian was out before easily getting himself unstuck and moving himself free the same way Damian had. Duh, he was an acrobat, practically a contortionist, it wasn't hard. He didn't tell anyone, but he had come up with the whole 'stuck' scheme so his little brother would go first. If the vent had been melted or damaged in any way, it was more likely the younger boy's weight would be held if he was alone, versus both of them together.<p>

Dick regretted nothing, even as Bruce insisted on inspecting him for injuries as well.

When he looked into the older man's eyes, Dick knew he knew. Thankfully, Bruce didn't say anything about it.

"Good, you're not hurt…do you know where Tim, Alfred, and Jason are…?" Bruce asked with a slight waver of hope in his tone.

Dick's eyes widened in surprise. He had hoped against hope that Jason wouldn't have been able to get inside with his leg, but he had forgotten how stubborn he could be. And if Tim and Alfred hadn't gotten out…

"No…I h-haven't…oh, God, Bruce…" Dick wondered if Jason had died a second time, and if he had, would it be his fault for bringing him here in the first place? Cold horror was starting to make its way through his veins. What about Alfred and Timmy? Oh, God, what if they were dead, too? Burned alive or trapped somewhere…no, no, that couldn't be true! Dick cursed his overactive imagination and tried to stay calm, mostly failing in that regard.

Right when he felt like he was about to start hyperventilating, a gurney covered in a white sheet was carried out of the Manor from the hole in the library wall. Harley Quinn, in handcuffs, was being dragged behind it by three police officers.

Dick's heart stopped.

Bruce froze, blood freezing. Who was under that sheet? His surrogate father figure, who was always there for the whole family? Tim, the son that tried the hardest and got the least recognition? Or was fate as unkind as to steal Jason away right when they had just got him back?

Damian didn't bother wondering. He stormed over to the paramedics, ignoring their protests, and tugged back the sheet.

Green hair, pale skin, and a sickening smile were revealed, cold yellow eyes glazed over in death.

All three Bats stared in stunned disbelief, not sure how to react. Their mortal enemy, the Joker, was dead.

Dick was the first to breathe a sigh of relief. "Thank God…" he whispered. If Joker was dead, Jason would be that much safer. _Gotham _would be that much safer.

Damian had a pleased little smirk growing on his face as he watched the paramedics recover the body with the sheet and take it away. In his eyes, justice had been served.

Bruce didn't know whether to be overjoyed or suspicious. The Joker was dead…who had done it? Most likely not a police officer, Gordon tried to keep them from using lethal force as much as possible, but if that was the case…hmm.

Suddenly, a second stretcher was carried out of the library, Alfred walking beside it and speaking to whoever was on it. Bruce's heart did a little jump as he recognized the black mop of hair with a streak of gray on the stretcher…that spray paint was never going to wash out, was it…?

"Master Peter, please calm down. Everyone is unhurt. Now, the paramedics cannot help you if you continue to-"

"Fuck the paramedics, I can't fucking move!" a hysterical voice yelled in response.

And that was when Dick fainted, his worst nightmare having come true.

* * *

><p>DJG: See, this time, the chapter was easier to write. Still under my usual chapter minimum of 3000 words, but only by around a hundred words. Hope this one's a little more action-packed than the last! Oh, and if you've got the time, drop a review, please! ^^ They make me happy inside.<p> 


	7. Don't

The ride to the hospital was a quiet one…for Jason, anyway. For Bruce, it was all too loud, the way the paramedics called for medical objects back and forth. At first, the teen had been screaming, cursing, and in general distracting the people attending him that eventually one stuck a mask over his nose and mouth that forced him into an unwilling slumber.

"Is he going to be okay?" Bruce asked quietly. One of the paramedics, a dark skinned woman with a blue baseball cap on, gave him a look.

"We aren't authorized to say anything until he's been looked at by the doctor…if we told anyone what we thought and turned out to be wrong, the whole hospital could be sued. Please understand." she replied, continuing her work on the broken boy in front of her.

Bruce frowned. "Trust me, I won't sue. I have enough money for a lifetime, thank you. Can't you give me any idea? How…how bad is he hurt?"

The paramedic sighed. "For you, sadly, it's not just a matter of money. You aren't a family member or legal guardian to the injured party, so I'm not allowed to tell you anything anyway."

The billionaire resisted the urge to Batglare. If only she knew… "Be that as it may," Bruce began, choosing his words carefully, "I would be…extremely grateful to hear what you have to say. In fact, I might be so grateful that the hospital might receive a large donation in the future if I were to find out what I want to know." Subtlety was not his top priority at the moment. He just needed information.

The paramedic glanced at the other two, who nodded quickly. Finally, she sighed. "All right. I'm gonna be honest since we're off the record. It's not good, Wayne. Not good at all. This kid's most likely got a spinal injury…a bad one. Not sure how well his range of motion will be, but it's pretty damn likely he won't be walking again. Arms are probably be out of the question, too. It's too early to tell for sure, but…don't get your hopes up."

Bruce could not believe what he was hearing. "N-never…walk again? H-he…won't be able to…to…or…use his hands? _Ever?_"

She looked his straight in the eyes. "Sorry, Wayne. You wanted the truth, I gave you the truth. It's not pretty, but it's reality. I'm guessing a C3 or C4, something right up along here." she said, gesturing to her lower neck. "Paralyzed from the neck down, is my guess. Then again, his fingers were twitching earlier. Maybe he'll surprise you. I don't really know for sure without x-rays…"

If Bruce hadn't been sitting already, the shock of the news would have probably knocked him over. His knees felt weak and his hands were shaking. This could _not _be happening. No way. Jason couldn't have been reduced to a quadriplegic because…

Because he had never had the guts to man up and kill the Joker himself.

As he thought about it…Bruce began to consider the idea that the Joker planned for this to happen. After all, if Joker had figured out Jason's identity, he obviously had deduced Bruce's and every other Bat's as well. The fire was also most likely his doing.

It was almost like he…knew. Joker must have known something was up with the Bat. He must've somehow found out that Bruce was dying and wanted to play one last joke. If _that_ was the case…

Bruce's gasp of realization was drowned out by the sirens of the ambulance.

If _that _was the case…! Then Jason being crippled was as planned as it had been for Barbara. Only this was worse, much worse. Because this…this was _his _fault. If he would have just avenged Jason's death as soon as it happened…then…maybe…

Would Jason's life be any better? Or was that just his own desperate rationalization?

It most likely wouldn't have led to him unconscious in an ambulance, a victim of the Joker for the umpteenth time.

The thing that stung the most, though…was knowing there were ways to keep the Joker alive and unable to hurt anyone. Ways to save people without crossing the line. Ways that seemed so obvious _now_ that he hadn't even _considered_ before. Crippling the Joker as Jason was…locking him up in the Batcave forever. He could have made a special cell, one that had no way to open it at all. Even better, put Joker in some sort of frozen state where he didn't age and where time didn't pass, and launch him into subspace. He'd still be alive, technically. He could have sent him to another universe. He could have had J'onn take the Joker's memory away.

There were _so many ways _he had failed. So many ways he could have done his job _better._

And his pseudo children kept paying the price.

"Damn it…" he hissed to himself, massaging his temples with one hand. Even with the Joker dead, Bruce didn't trust the scenario. The Joker _had _to have had a backup plan of some sort. If the Joker really knew that he was dying, he would have wanted to hurt _as many _members of the Batfamily as possible, not just one. Sure, Tim had a broken arm and Alfred had some bruises, but the Joker wouldn't be content with _that._ He'd want something more…soul crushing.

And if the paramedics were right, for Jason, he had succeeded.

* * *

><p>Back at the Manor, Tim's arm was being set by one of the paramedics, while Dick, Damian, and Alfred were examined for smoke inhalation and minor wounds. All of them were slightly singed, and Dick had acquired a small burn on his arm at some point when he and Damian had been trying to reach the Batcave, but apart from that, all of them were fine.<p>

As soon as they were free to go, Alfred ushered Dick, Tim, and Damian towards the garage that had thankfully been spared by the blaze. Overall, most of the Manor was fine. The library and most of the rooms around it would need major repairs, but hopefully it would be finished quickly.

"We're going to meet Master Bruce at Gotham General. He mentioned he was going to reuse Master Jason's 'Peter Myotis' disguise again, just so none of the doctors become suspicious." the butler explained, holding the door open for the boys.

Tim frowned, slumped down and staring out the window in silence. Dick was trying his best to stay cheerful, but with both of his little brothers quiet and Alfred up front, he wasn't really succeeding. Damian simply crossed his arms and ignored everyone.

The third Robin had a lot to process, staring quietly as the ambulance with the Joker in it turned left and the one with Jason and Bruce, lights still flashing, went straight. Yes, the Joker was dead- or was he? Tim wasn't so sure. The shooting had seemed just a little _too_ natural, a little bit _too_ staged, almost like-

Tim's eyes widened as he sat up. "Alfred, turn around!"

The butler shot him a confused look. "Master Tim, what-?"

The genius shook his head. "No time to explain, we have to catch up with the other ambulance."

Dick made a face. "What? Why, Tim?"

Tim's eyes narrowed. "Because the Joker is alive."

* * *

><p>DJG: AGH. I know, super short and uber terrible, but I've been sitting on this chapter for like, ever. And I figured an update was needed, just so you guys don't flail around wondering what happens. I'm literally typing up the next chapter as you read this. *smiles nervously* Please don't kill me?<p> 


	8. Try

DJG: For a full whine-fest/apology, scroll to the bottom. For now, please enjoy the chapter and don't murder me in my sleep, please?

Muse: *passes out crowbars*

* * *

><p>The oldest and youngest Batboys gave Tim a surprised look.<p>

"What?"

"How do you know?!"

Tim shook his head. "No time to explain, just go!" If his hunch was right, they didn't have a lot of time to dilly-dally.

Alfred nodded, hitting the gas as he turned to follow the ambulance Tim had pointed out. "As you wish, Master Tim."

Dick suddenly frowned. "Wait, doesn't this ambulance have Jason and Bruce in it?"

Damian scoffed. "No, Grayson, this one has the Joker, the other has Father and Todd."

Tim bit his lip, realizing that during the time that the ambulances had left the Manor, taking two very different routes and passing each other multiple times…he couldn't say for sure which was which.

"U-Uhm…" Tim squeezed his eyes shut, scanning his memory to try and remember each time the ambulances turned, weaving in and out of traffic. "I-I…no, it's the other one! Dick's right, this one has Jason and Bruce in it."

Alfred looked over his shoulder. "If I may suggest a solution, perhaps one of you could call Master Bruce and ask for the number of the ambulance he's in?"

Dick reached for his phone, but then stopped. "I forgot, my phone was smashed in the car wreck…all I have is the photo card."

Damian groaned. "And mine is in the Manor, probably in ashes."

Tim reached into the pocket of the seat in front of him, pulling out a sleek, black phone. "I keep a spare in every vehicle." he explained, dialing Bruce's cell phone number.

Damian stared at him. "You do realize Father owns roughly eighty five vehicles, including Batmobiles and Robin-cycles?"

Tim nodded, listening to the phone ring on the other line. "Yep. Never hurts to have a back-up."

Damian blinked, unwillingly impressed, as Tim waited for Bruce to pick up.

"…hello?"

The third Robin froze at Bruce's tone of voice, which was soft and defeated. "Bruce? What's happened?" he asked, not sure if he wanted to hear this or not.

"…Tim. Is the phone on speaker?" Bruce questioned.

"Um…" Tim turned it off. "There, it's off now." he responded, watching as Damian and Dick gave the phone a suspicious look.

Bruce sighed. "I didn't want Dick to overhear, it'd probably affect him negatively."

Tim cursed his detective's brain as it provided several scenarios that would bother Dick, none of them pretty. "I…Is Jason dead?"

Bruce answered quickly. "No, he's alive and stable for now, thank God, but…"

There was a long pause.

"The paramedics don't think he'll be able to move anything below his shoulders ever again."

A sucker punch to Tim's heart, that's what that was. "Wh…what?" he asked weakly, Dick leaning forward, a concerned look on his face while Damian scoffed and looked away.

"Is Jason…?" Dick began in a soft, timid voice.

Tim shook his head quickly. "Bruce, what's the ambulance number of the one you're in? The Joker is alive and we don't know which one to follow…"

A pregnant pause. "I knew it. Something wasn't right with his 'death'. " Bruce hissed. "We're in 4242. We've taken three lefts and six rights since we left the Manor, we should be somewhere close to Gotham General."

Dick frowned. "But…that's not one of the ambulance numbers. I wrote them down earlier, the numbers should be 4946, and 2287."

Tim relayed all three numbers to Damian, who typed them into his laptop.

"Drake, tell Father that 4242 isn't a valid ambulance number in Gotham…neither are any of the ones Grayson wrote down. It says that ambulance 4242 was reported stolen a few months ago, by the Bludhaven Police Department."

Dick blinked, eyes lighting up. "Wait a minute…I remember that! The ambulance was called to help victims at a fire. It never showed up."

Suddenly, there was a sound of yelling from over the phone, followed by a horrible crashing noise, then total silence.

"Bruce? Can you hear me? Hello?" Tim demanded. He looked up, eyes widening as he realized neither of the ambulances were in sight. "Alfred, where did they go?"

The butler looked over his shoulder. "Master Tim, I looked away for a moment and when I returned my attention to the road, neither were visible. I apologize."

Damian scoffed. "If the Joker is involved, chances are he planned it. It is not your error this time, Pennyworth."

Alfred's mustache twitched, the closest thing Damian would get to a smile at the moment.

Tim swore, squeezing the phone tighter. "Something's wrong, I heard yelling, and now Bruce isn't talking."

Dick frowned, muttering something under his breath. "4242...4946...2287...wait a second, give me the phone!" he said, reaching over. Tim passed it off, expecting Dick to talk into it. Instead, the eldest Batboy hit 'end' and examined the keys carefully, writing something down on his arm.

"I knew it! The phone card, the ambulance numbers…it's all about phones, that's the clue! And if you're texting and type in the ambulance numbers to the corresponding key…you get…haha. Second one would be…iwin. Or I win? And the third one is…bats. Joker must have changed the ambulance numbers to make it harder to track them! The full message is 'Haha, I win, Bats.' He's taunting us!"

Tim shook his head. "Something's really wrong…I can feel it. We have to find the ambulance with Jason and Bruce in it before the Joker does, if he hasn't already."

* * *

><p>The three paramedics screamed as the ambulance suddenly was hit by something, tipping on its side. Bruce swore, moving to cover Jason from the cabinets and other medical debris that toppled on impact. The gurney tipped over in the process, but Bruce didn't let Jason hit the ground.<p>

"What the hell was-?" Bruce began, but was cut off as the back of the ambulance was pried open from the outside.

Standing there, smirking with Harley at his side, was the Joker, a wide grin upon his face. "Now, now, I thought you were supposed to pull over when ambulances passed! Oh well, that's why we decided to make you. Hop on up, Brucie, and bring Cripple Boy with you. We're going for a little ride."

Bruce snarled, wishing he had been in costume at that moment. "How did you do it? You were dead! How did you pull it off in front of all those cops and paramedics?"

Harley laughed. "We paid 'em off, darlin'! Hired 'em just for this job! Y'see, they're the last few henchies we didn't turn in at Blackgate!"

Bruce froze, glancing behind him at the three paramedics, who were now dusting off their scrubs and standing, looking mostly unbothered. They must be working for Joker, too.

"Ding ding ding, and the light goes on!" Joker mocked, twirling the pistol in his hand. "Now, we don't have all day. Either you bring the brat along, or they will," he said, gesturing to the phony paramedics, "and they won't be as gentle as you. In fact, too much jostling and it might just snap the little birdie in two."

Bruce looked down, Jason's face relaxed from the mask still keeping him asleep. He looked much younger when he was asleep…

"Fine, but he needs to stay on the stretcher." Bruce responded stonily, picking up the stretcher off the ground and oh so carefully placing Jason back onto it, gingery making sure not to move his back or neck. Jason gave a small groan of pain as he did so, fingers curling slightly as his face turned towards Bruce slightly.

"Aw, iddint he precious, Mistah Jay?" Harley squealed, looking up to Joker. "See, this is why we shoulda had kids!"

Joker made a face. "Blegh! No way. As soon as you get kids, your life is over. They make ya soft. Lookit Brucie, here. His little brats are a perfect example. Enough jibber jabber! Come on, we don't got all day." Joker snapped, gesturing Bruce towards the other ambulance.

Bruce Batglared at him, reluctantly pushing Jason forward, towards the other ambulance.

"Now, Brucie, I don't trust you to not memorize the route, sooo…"

Something hard collided with the side of Bruce's head, and he fell forward into blackness.

* * *

><p>When Bruce woke up, he found himself somewhere he <em>did not <em>want to be. The too-familiar greenish stone walls, the bars everywhere…

They were in Arkham Asylum.

Quickly, he looked around for his second oldest son. "Jason? Where are you?" he asked frantically, relaxing slightly as he saw Jason, still on the gurney, sitting in the corner.

What he didn't like, however, was the metal instrument in the ceiling that was projecting a pale purple sheen over the bed and patient lying in it, completely surrounding him.

"Joker! What's going on? What is this?" Bruce demanded in the Batvoice, for once not worrying about his secret identity.

The clown strolled by the cell Bruce and Jason were contained in, laughing. "Oh, just a little force field. Nothing major. Your idea, I believe? Something that keeps little Jay-Jay in and you out. Even if you can escape, you wouldn't leave him behind. You're lucky I didn't get the other force field, the one that's also a suspended animation thingie. I wanted him to wake up." Joker remarked offhandedly.

Bruce's face twisted into a snarl. "Why, because he doesn't have any pain medication?"

Joker laughed. "Not just that. There's gonna be a real good show as soon as the rest of the Bats get here. He's not gonna wanna miss it. Oh, fun fact for ya, if you touch that field at all, there's a machine gun that'll come outta the ceiling and give your boy a few new breathing holes, if ya catch my drift. Have fuuuuun~!" With that, the Joker strolled away, whistling cheerfully.

Bruce sighed, sitting down on the cot as he inspected the force field and the door, trying to think of an escape plan that didn't end up with Jason stuck here alone or dead. He cursed himself for even proposing the idea. He had come up with it for the Arkham patients that had an object, such as the Ventriloquist and his dummy, Ivy and her plants, ect. If they couldn't take that object with them, Bruce had theorized they'd be less likely to escape. Now, look how that had turned out…

* * *

><p>The hours passed slowly, each one of his many escape plans becoming increasingly more desperate. Bruce found it ironic that all of his security measures to keep the villains of Gotham in Arkham were now being used against him.<p>

Right when Bruce was about to give up on his 43rd escape plan, Jason gave a small moan, eyes cracking open weakly.

"Nng…!"

Bruce stood, approaching Jason. "Jason? How do you feel?" he asked.

Unfocused green eyes locked onto him, before looking down at himself. "Why…tied m' down?" Jason slurred, voice small and confused.

Bruce shook his head. "You're not strapped down, Jason…do you remember the fire? The accident…?"

Jason made to answer, but suddenly let out a cry of pain, the fingers of his left hand twitching madly. "H-Hurts-!" he choked out, shaking his head back in forth slowly.

Bruce wished more than ever that the force field would vanish so he could try and comfort his son, who looked to be in extreme pain, to the point of being delirious.

"…It'll be alright." he lied instead, crouching down as close to the bed as he could.

Jason simply squeezed his eyes shut and moved his head weakly, and Bruce knew if he wasn't injured, he would be writhing in pain.

* * *

><p>It had been three unbearable hours since Jason awoke, and Bruce had nothing to help him.<p>

"Joker!" Bruce yelled, slamming his fists against the bars. He wasn't sure what he wanted to demand, just that something needed to change. He couldn't bear to watch Jason in pain any longer.

Joker strolled out of a nearby cell, a smirk on his face. "Had enough, B-Man? Tell ya what. We'll let you out for a little bit and even give Cripply some morphine, but you've gotta make a scripted phone call to the rest of the Birdies."

Bruce sighed. "Fine, but I swear to God, Joker, if Jason is hurt while I'm gone…"

Joker laughed manically. "Don't sweat it, Daddybats. Your paramedic friends will keep an eye on 'im until you get back." The three lackeys stood lazily, advancing towards the cell with newspapers and other forms of entertainment in hand.

Bruce glared. "Fine." He'd have to make this fast. He didn't want to leave Jason alone for longer than a few minutes at most.

* * *

><p><strong> ((AN: Saving the actual phone call until next chapter. Sorry to disappoint. XD ))<strong>

The phone call had gone…about as well as he expected. It had been interrupted halfway through by the sound of panicked screaming.

Bruce bolted towards his cell, hearing Harley's unmistakable voice joining the screaming.

"Ahhh what the fa-!?" she screamed, before being cut off.

Bruce's eyes widened. "Jason?! Are you alright?" he called.

The only thing he saw was a flash of green light at the end of the hall, and followed by a wickedly familiar cackle that made his blood run cold.

* * *

><p>DJG: I'M SO SORRY GUYS. I've been so busy with school and vacations and laziness and my new job and writer's block that I haven't had a lot of time. ;-; I apologize again, and hope that I can start back up on finishing this and Tekiya soon! Thanks for bearing with me, and I hope that everyone who once liked this story hasn't died from old age. XD Also, if someone can guess what's going on or predict the next chapter correctly, I'll write them a personalized Batman oneshot. ;) First guess, first served.<p> 


	9. And

**AN: First of all I'd just like to thank everyone who bothers to read this after it going a year and a half without an update. D: I plan on finishing the story soon, and hope to update regularly until the end. There should only be about 2 more chapters planned, but I may extend it to give you guys a good ending. :3 There will probably be a oneshot after this story to wrap up and summarize this trilogy, but that's probably all. ((Unless I get plenty of good reviews, that is~ ;) )) Scroll to the bottom for a less formal explanation of why it took so long to post this,and happy reading! :3**

* * *

><p>The instant that the phone rang, Dick pounced for it, the receiver to his ear in less than a second. "Bruce? Bruce, is that you? Are you and Jason okay?" He asked frantically. There was silence for a moment, followed by a small cough and then the clearing of a throat. In the background, Dick could hear the faintest ruffling of paper. A scripted phone call, then. Bruce's little cough was a signal they had come up with ages ago in case of scenario like this one.<p>

"Nightwing, Red Robin, I need you two to come help get us out of here. Bring Robin. Joker has us locked up in Arkham Asylum. Jason's not..." Here Bruce paused, as if the words themselves pained him to say. "Jason's not doing very well. He's hurt badly."

Dick's eyes widened while Tim and Damian shot each other looks. They couldn't tell exactly what Bruce was saying, but they could hear bits and pieces. And what they could hear didn't sound good.

"What do you mean, how hurt?" Dick asked nervously. He knew Jay was in rough shape from what happened in the fire, but he didn't know if Joker had amplified those injuries.

There was a long pause before Bruce answered. "He's still paralyzed, but he's in a lot of pain. Joker is withholding morphine, so the pain has gotten immense. He's holding Jason inside one of those force fields I invented. The scrapped project."

Dick cursed. "This is a trap, isn't it?"

Bruce paused again, but his silence was answer enough. He was clearly watching what he said to avoid angering the Joker.

Dick sighed heavily. "What wing are you in?"

Another pause, followed by the Joker's voice as he snatched the phone away. "All right, that's enough time, Brucie. You heard him, bat brats. You better come help or it's curtains for daddy and little red riding ho- what the hell?!" There was a loud crashing noise, followed by silence as the phone went dead. Dick's eyes widened.

"Bruce? Joker? What happened? Damn it!" He hung up, turning to his two little brothers. "We need to hurry. I know it's a trap, but... We can't leave them. Something big is about to go down. Damian? You're staying here."

Damian's eyes narrowed. "Like hell, Grayson."

Dick interrupted. "No, listen to me, we need you to observe from Babs' hideout. She's going to want to help as much as possible, too. Also, you'll need to call Starfire and Roy. I have a plan to get Jay and Bruce out, but we need extra firepower."

Tim nodded. "I'll get ahold of Roy and Star while we suit up. Damian, call Barbara and the Batgirls and have them stay on lookout. This whole thing might be a distraction, so we need people patrolling Gotham."

Dick gave a small nod in Tim's direction. "Good idea."

* * *

><p>While Bruce was making the phone call, two of the Joker's lackeys were bringing an IV with a bag of morphine hooked up over to Jason. His face was pale and sweaty, but he summoned the energy to snarl at them. One pressed a button on a small handheld device and the force field vanished, leaving Jason exposed. He wished now more than ever that he had the ability to use his hands...<p>

"C'mon, kid, quit yer bitchin'. You want meds or not?"

Jason growled low in his throat. The pain was intense and only growing worse, but he didn't trust anything the Joker had come into contact with. "Leave me alone!" He yelled, head turning from side to side.

The other grunt merely laughed lifting Jason's arm and prodding him with the needle.

It was the last thing he would ever do.

As soon as the morphine made contact with Jason's bloodstream, the ex-Robin's eyes began to glow a bright, fierce green, his face twisting into a pained shriek as one of his previously unusable arms lifted the man from the floor and threw him to the ground with enough force to shatter his ribcage. The other lackey looked on in horror as Jason turned to glare at him, his glowing eyes narrowed in anger. What was going on?!

"Y-you're supposed to be crippled!" He yelped, turning to run. It was at that moment that Jason stood, one arm outstretched towards the man. When he opened his mouth to speak, the voice that came out wasn't his own.

"I warned you."

With no warning, the wall of the cell caved in, being swarmed over by hundreds of plantlike vines, twisting and curling over each other in an effort to ensnare the man. Jason merely grinned as the lackey was ripped apart easily, pieces dropped unceremoniously to the floor. Jason's pale skin was beginning to take on an almost greenish hue...not unlike that of the donor of his liver.

The plants easily took down the wall to the cell, Jason walking down the hall as if this was totally routine. Harley Quinn did a double take as she spotted him, giving a shriek of fear. "Ahhh what the fa-!?" She was cut off as Jason make a small motion with his hand, several of the plants scooping the jester up and tossing her into a cell. He wasn't sure why, but he had a strange feeling that he shouldn't kill her, that she was a friend.

It was at that moment that the Joker and Bruce came around the corner, Joker's eyes widening as he could have swore that it was Poison Ivy, not Jason, standing at the end of the hall. This wasn't supposed to happen, this wasn't in his plans! How was this even happening?!

Bruce stared at his son in disbelief, from the green-tinted skin, glowing eyes, and the plants surrounding him and doing his every whim...it was as if Poison Ivy had come back from the dead.

And then it came to him.

The liver! Jason had gotten a liver donation after the whole Stinger epidemic, and when they had looked in the water lines for Jason, they had found Ivy's remaining organs...everything was present and accounted for except for the liver. He couldn't believe he had overlooked something this crucial. That meant...somehow, because of the liver, Jason was channeling Ivy's powers. He would have continued his musings, but there was suddenly numerous vines flying at him. With all the instincts of the Dark Knight, he flipped to the side, eyes narrowing as Jason ran at him.

"You-!" He snarled. Only it wasn't his voice. It was a combination of his voice and Pamela Isley's. Bruce cursed, not wanting to hurt Jason, but needing to get him to stop moving. He was still grievously injured, it was impossible that he could even move at all. The plants seemed to be doing most of the work for him, ensnaring around Joker's ankles and yanking him to the ground roughly. Bruce's arms were trapped in a similar way, his struggles doing nothing, and without his utility belt, he couldn't do anything except glare. Jason's attention snapped to the clown, as thin vines began to snake around his torso in a way reminiscent to the plants Ivy used to wear. Bruce tugged and pulled at his restraints, noticing that the longer Jason stayed in this state, the more like Ivy he was becoming. Could this be...permanent..? No!

Jason advanced on the clown, who was stuttering out apologies and confused questions. "I-Ivy..?! H-How nice to see you a-again! I...I really didn't mean for you to die, honest, it was just an unfortunate accident!"

Jason's bright green eyes narrowed. "Accident? Hah! You planned every step of that! You meant for me to die! You planned my death! And now...I have time to plan yours."

Bruce's eyes widened. "Jason, Jason stop! You're not in control of yourself, I know how badly he deserves to die, but don't!" He didn't want Jason to revert back to his old ways of killing his problems, especially when he wasn't sure if Jason was even in control anymore. From what it sounded, Ivy's personality had lingered, whether it was from her powers or the plants' effects, and he didn't know if Jason was being influenced by that, or if he had become possessed by whatever was left of Ivy.

Jason's eyes darted towards him for a split second, pausing, his hand raised as if to strike down the Joker at any minute. The clown's eyes flashed from Bruce to Jason and back again, mouth pressed in a concerned line. He had so much planned, he couldn't die now! Not until he saw all of his plans come to fruition. Maybe it was time to bust out Plan B...as subtly as possible, he reached up to his bow tie and pressed a hidden button behind the seam. It would trigger a signal to be sent to one of the other inmates on his payroll...one that would alert them take immediate action.

Jason continued to pause, not making any moves towards Joker yet. His eyes were still firmly on Bruce, as if Jason was listening to what he was saying. So he continued to speak, hoping he could possibly calm him down. "Listen, I know that he deserves to die, after what he did to you...but look at yourself. You've killed two of his lackeys, and you haven't even done background checks. They could have been innocent! And that's not like you. You try to only kill those who deserve it, and I'm not saying the Joker doesn't...but now isn't the time. We need to get you to a doctor, your spine and liver need to be looked at...there will be a time for him to be punished."

Jason stared for a long moment, vines poised to strike, before he let his hand fall to his side. "...You're right, there will be a time."

Bruce breathed a sigh of relief, relaxing for a moment.

Jason's eyes flashed for a moment, before he thrust his fist forwards in a sharp, jerking motion. The vines plunged forward into the Joker's chest, blood splattering all over Bruce and Jason's faces. The older man gave a harsh cry, but he knew it was too late, there was no way to help the Joker now. Jason's eyes narrowed cruelly, a self satisfied smirk on his face as the vines grew through Joker's body, a single red rose blooming from the clown's half open mouth, a dark red drop of blood clinging to a petal. "The time was now." He said simply, satisfaction thick in his tone. Bruce grit his teeth, turning away.

"Jason, snap out of it, you've done enough-!" Bruce pleaded, his eyes concerned. Jason turned to him, face stony for a long moment, and then...

"...I'm not Jason. And I don't know how to stop." he spoke finally. The plants around him seemed to be brushing against his legs, as if to get his attention, but Jason ignored them. The pose he was standing in was one that Pamela had taken many a time during battle while she let her plants do all the fighting.

Bruce stood, the vines falling away from his arms as he moved closer to the younger man. "...Ivy. You can't keep control of Jason's body forever, you know. He has his own life to live. And you're not going to be a part of it."

Jason's eyes regarded Bruce for a moment. "Some plants aren't that easy to kill. They keep regrowing season after season."

Bruce reached forward to lay his hand on Jason's shoulder. The look of disgust that he was given almost made him pull his hand back, but he held firm. "Listen to me. Your season has passed. Joker is dead, you have no reason to linger."

Resigned green eyes met his for a moment, before the plants coiling near Jason's body began to fall away, laying limp and unmoving. The green tinge of his skin began to recede, and finally, his glowing green eyes faded back to their regular jade color, before falling closed, slumping forward unsteadily. To Bruce's surprise, Jason's hands reached out to catch himself, legs wobbling unsteadily as if he was going to fall over.

"Hnng...wh...what...?" His legs gave out for a moment, dizziness momentarily winning out over his sense of balance.

Bruce easily caught his middle son, his hands on his shoulders as he gave a relieved sigh. "Oh, Jason...you're okay..."

Jason blinked in confusion, one hand coming up to rub at his head. "H-Huh? Wh...what happened? I'm fine, I just...erg..."

Bruce reached out and grabbed Jason's hand in surprise, eyes widening as he realized that Jason had just moved his arms all on his own. "Y...you can move...Jason, can you stand?" He asked with a sudden intensity, eyes fixated on Jason's legs especially.

Jason's eyes widened as he stared at his hands, before realizing he was standing by himself, no longer bothered by a feeling of pain in his spine. He moved his head up, down, to the left and right, but there was no pain. It was like he had gone through years of surgery and physical therapy in the mere 15 minutes he had been possessed by Poison Ivy. He looked up in disbelief. "I...I can move...I'm okay!"

Bruce broke out in a genuine smile, just so relieved that Jason was alright. His thoughts drifted to the other Robins and he reached down to the phone the Joker had dropped when he first saw Jas- Ivy. He dialed a number and waited, cursing a bit as they didn't answer the phone. "What's going on...? It's unusual for Nightwing to not answer the phone..."

"That's because your other little bird brains are a little occupied!" Harley's voice came from the cell Jason had thrown her in earlier. Bruce's eyes narrowed as he advanced over to the door, reaching in and grabbing Harley by her jester hat.

"Occupied how?" he growled, eyes narrowing. He didn't seem to care at this point that he and his identity had been revealed to her. Without the Joker, she wouldn't be much of a threat.

Harley whimpered as her hat was yanked on again, shooting Bruce a pouty glare. "Mistah Jay had a plan from the very beginning...a plan in case somethin' happened to him for real. He knows 'bout the tumor, Brucie, knew from the very start. And he wanted us all to go out with a bang, all at the same time, but since that's not possible anymore, he arranged fer someone to get the other Bats, one at a time, an' make sure none of them can ever take up th' mantle when yer gone."

Bruce's eyes widened while Jason's face scrunched up in confusion. Before he could ask anything, Bruce cut him off, hoping to draw his attention away. He wasn't ready for Jason to know. Not yet. Not any of his boys needed to know right now. "Where are they, Harley!? Tell me, there's no point in keeping it a secret. I can get you a lighter Arkham sentence if you help us."

Harley narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. "Humph! Good riddance to 'em! Why should I care if a few little birdies get their wings trimmed?"

Jason scowled, moving forward to leer at her. "Listen, clown. You told me that Ivy thought we were all weeds, remember? And Ivy weeded her own garden. She didn't need someone to do it for her. She might not have liked us, but Ivy would have at least wanted to take us out herself instead of relying on someone else!"

Harley bit her lip for a moment, eyes swimming as she thought of her lost friend. "I-I don't know a lot! I just know Mistah Jay hired Hush to take care of the rest of the birds in case somethin' went wrong-! That's all, I swear!" She bawled. Bruce cursed and whirled around, heading for the exit to Arkham.

"We need to hurry. If Thomas has them...it won't be pretty. I'm going to try and signal the Batmobile to come pick us up, it can't get a signal from this far through cement walls."

Jason nodded and turned to follow after him as he disappeared down the hall, but Harley reached through the bars and latched onto his arm with surprising strength. "Wait-!" she cried. Jason froze, giving her a glare.

"What do you want?" he demanded, a bit irritatedly. She looked up at him with sad puppy dog eyes, her white face paint smeared a bit.

"Jus'...jus' don't forget that I helped you out, Little Red. I saved you, remember? Gotcha that liv'r and everything. I jus'... Can you do me a favor too?" She asked hopefully.

Jason's eyes narrowed a bit and he tugged at his arm again. He didn't want to owe the clown shit, but she had saved his life... "What do you want? Let go, dammit!"

Harley only clung on tighter, her voice desperate. "I-I been keep in' somethin' from Mistah Jay, he'd only get mad if he knew..! A-An since no one's around anymore to bust me out...it's gotta be you!"

Jason scowled, shaking his head. "You aren't making any sense, what are you talking about?"

Harley grit her teeth a bit out of frustration. "J-Just go to th' old Haley's circus and check out th' tent with the blue an' yellow stripes. Please." Her eyes seemed to bore into his soul, her grip tight as if she wouldn't let go until he promised.

"...fine. Alright? Fine! But why do you want me to go there? Is this some kind of trap?" Jason asked suspiciously. Harley just stared, not saying a word. It was as if she had mentally checked out of the conversation. Jason groaned and pulled his hand away, following after Bruce down the hallway and out of Arkham.

Bruce glanced of the side as Jason walked out, looking over a bit. "Get any information out of her?"

Jason shook his head. "Nothing useful. Just rambling."

Bruce nodded, and they stood in silence until the Batmobile rolled up seconds later. The older man rushed over to the trunk and pulled out an extra suit, scanning the area quickly to make sure no one was watching. When the coast was clear, he was quick to don the gear. Jason stood there a bit awkwardly, not sure what he should be doing. He was still wearing singed clothes from the Manor fire, which felt like ages ago. It was hard to believe it had happened only three or four hours ago.

Bruce glanced over and reached inside again, coming out with a black skintight suit and a leather jacket. "I took the liberty of carrying an extra suit for you in the back. I even have a helmet that I've made some modifications to. Here." He handed the items over, and Jason accepted them, blinking at the new style of the helmet. It was a little bit smoother around the edges than his old one, and the eye coverings seemed to be much stronger than his other helmet. Jason tugged the hood on, blinking at how different the inside felt.

Bruce spoke up, his own cowl firmly in place as he slipped into the persona of Batman. "I added a voice modulator that will better disguise your voice. It can also record samples of other voices and copy them almost perfectly. It won't get you into my voice activated secret rooms, but it will get you past most security locks, as well as distracting opponents."

Jason gave a small grin as he pressed one of the tiny buttons on the side of the helmet, before Bruce's own voice began to come out of the helmet. "That's pretty freaking sweet, B-Man."

The Dark Knight blinked and gave a deadpan stare. "And you'll need to work on your actual mimicry. Batman doesn't say 'freaking sweet'."

Jason resisted the urge to laugh. "You just did."

A long pause.

"We need to go." Batman said finally, turning away with his cape moving with him. The message was clear. Now was not the time for jokes. Not with their fellow vigilantes in danger.

Jason finished suiting up, giving a nod, his mood serious. "Then let's do this."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: OH GOD I'M SO SORRY FOR BEING A PIECE OF SHIT. *explodes* It's literally been a year since I updated this and I am SO sorry. ;-; I just hope this update meets everyone's expectations. I hope to continue and finish this story within the next few months, so please stay tuned for more! And also if anyone has any requests for how they want the story to end, feel free to tell me. :3 I sometimes sneak little things in for the fans.<strong>


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